THE 

PARTING 



AN AMERICAN PLAY 
IN FOUR ACTS 



DAVID K. HIGGINS 



MILTON O. HIGGINS 



Copyright 1907, by 

DAVID K. HIGGINS and MILTON O. HIGGINS 

All Rights Reserved 



THE 

PARTING 



AN AMERICAN PLAY 
IN FOUR ACTS 



DAVID K. HIGGINS 



MILTON O. HIGGINS 






Copyright 1907, by 

DAVID K. HIGGINS and MILTON O. HIGGINS 

All Rights Reserved 



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jLISRARY of CONGRESS) 

Two C'r.Jltts fi-jKlvcC .' 

NOV ^5 190^ I ■ 
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PERSONS. 

Gilbert Stanley. 

Katherine Stanley^ his mother. 

Abigail iWestlake. 

Clarice Westlake, her daughter. 

Matthew Vanberg. 

Elizabeth Vanberg, his wife. 

Charlie Vanberg, his son. 

Mildred Vanberg, his daughter. 

Alice Frothingham. 

Lucille Derny. 

Dell A Snow. 

Eugene Hammond. 

Ferson. 

Bridesmaids, Guests, Servants, Mob. 



THE BIRD AND THE CAGE. 



ACT I. 

At Stanley's Home. 
Time — Summer Morning. 

Large Colonial room — tricked out zuith athletic apparatus — and 
feminine knick knacks — summer furnishing of refined char- 
acter and profuseness — doors open right and left — room is 
a wide large living room — outlooking a porch zvith jvhite 
columns twined with vines — backed by red brick zvall also 
vine tzvined — shozving an old high iron gate through zvhich 
a country road is seen in distance — hangings are typical of 
a nice quietness of home — a combination of the old and the 
new in zvall ornamentation and furnishings — zvillozv, rattan 
or mission furniture — rugs and matting on the floor — cool- 
ness, the tone — small table set for breakfast for one dozvn 
near large fireplace — screen doors — large lozv zvindozvs at 
back opening out onto porch, open — stairs to a colonial bal- 
cony, with doors leading off from same into second floor 
rooms — zvith practical doors opening from balcony into 
them — zvindozv at back is a zvide, lozv colonial bay zvith a 
step up to a zvindozv settee built in and cushioned — covered 
zvith linen — at rise — a bell rings — Lucille enters door on 
balcony — comes down stairs carrying fray — Delia enters 
from door R or L dozvn in front of fireplace and meets 
Lucille C. takes tray — clock is striking ten as this goes 
forzvard — 

Della — {A prim, frank-spoken, rural serving zvoman of 
about thirty years.) — I should think your arms would be worn 
off carrying things up and down those stairs fifty times a day. 

Lucille — (A nice looking French maid of about tzventy 
years.) — It is not my arms I will wear off — (kicks out her foot 
and laughs). 

But I love her — everyone loves mademoiselle. 

Della — It seems so — in this house. 

(Bell rings again — messenger enters zvith large box of flozv- 
ers — Delia starts to put dozvn tray — Lucille checks her, and goes 
to meet him — takes bo.v — they stand talking, each zvith her bun- 
dle; messenger exits.) 

Lucille — Here it is again. 

Della — Every day — 

Lucille — The box of orchids from the millionaire. For- 
giveness prayers for tipping her out of his automobile. 

Della — It's lucky Doctor Gilbert was handy. 

Lucille — To save her — to carry her in here in his arms. 
(Embraces box sentimentally.) Ah, if it were my ankle it would 
never get well. 

They are playing a match game — the doctor and the mil- 
lionaire. Now, it is my opinion — 



Bella — What ? 

Lucille — That unless some one upsets the chess board the 
doctor will checkmate the millionaire in one bold move. (Goes 
up stairs and exits zvith box.) 

{Delia turns azvay as Abigail and Clarice enter — (C). Abby 
bustles in and Clarice lounges after. She is dressed for riding 
horseback — goes to table and absently takes cake and eats it — 
is a large buxom girl of twenty years — blonde and full cheeked 
— loud and distinct utterance, but not vulgar — a practical minded 
Miss zvith some sense of humor, but no real appreciation of it.) 

Abigail — {A large, stout, middle-aged zvoinan of brusque 
and bustling manner, dressed shozvily youthful in light colors.) 
— Good morning, Delia. Is Mrs. Stanley here? (Bustles 
about. ) 

Della — In the garden. 

Abigail — And Doctor Gilbert? 

Della — Not returned yet, ma'am. 

Abigail — Isn't he home? 

Della — He went away suddenly last night — 

Abigail — Away — suddenly — last night — Alone ? 

Della — No, ma'am ; with some one. 

Abigail — Della, you don't mean to tell me! — where's Miss 
\^anberg ? 

Della — In her room, ma'am. 

(Della e.x'its shozn's resentment at questions.) 

Abigail — Thank goodness — she gave me such a turn — 
[sinks into chair). 

Clarice — (eating) — You thought they had eloped — no such 
luck — 

Abigail — How you talk — wishing another woman would 
run off with your affianced husband. 

Clarice — He isn't — 

Abigail — He is. 

Clarice — He isn't. 

Abigail — He is — always was ; always will be — 

Clarice — That's your merry-go-round. 

Abigail — Stop using slang — everybody knows it. 

Clarice — Yes — you've attended to that little detail — 

Abigail — It's settled. 

Clarice — Puppy love — we've both outgrown it — 

Abigail — He just worships the ground you walk on. 

Clarice— He has lots to worship then. 

(Enter Charlie from room on balcony; conies dozvn.) 

Abigail — Why are you dressed for riding? 

Clarice — To ride, of course — 

Abigail — Who with? 

Clarice — -With Mr. Vanberg. You told me I must ride 
to reduce my flesh — how can I reduce without some one to ride 
with ? 

Charlie — (coming dozvn; he is a bright young man of 
about tzventy-seven years) — Yes. How can she reduce without 
some one to ride with? 



Abigail — And you are the proper some one, I suppose? 

Charlie — On my lucky days. Ah, good morning — 

Abigail — Now, don't pay my daughter indirect compH- 
ments — she's silly enough already — besides I don't believe this 
riding does any good. Let me look at you {turns her around). 
Not an ounce gone with all that jolting — it would kill me. 

Charlie — Would it? {Eagerly; then meekly) — Why not 
try? 

Clarice — I can't help it — it only makes me hungry to ride 
{eats). 

Abigail — Stop eating sweets. How's your sister? 

Charlie — Fine. 

Abigail — I saw your father ride by — he's upstairs, isn't he? 

Charlie — Yes — come on, Billy. 

Abigail — I must find something else — this daily ride don't 
suit you at all. 

Charlie — You haven't given it a chance — her waist is cer- 
tainly smaller. 

Abigail — How do you know? 

Charlie — Why — I can see it — anybody can see it — cer- 
tainly — 

Abigail — {sarcastically) — Yes — anybody can see lots of 
things. I've been watching this little picnic for almost two 
weeks now. 

Clarice — While I've been reducing {taking another cake). 

Abigail — This brotherly visit here to your injured sister 
every day and then the gallop with my daughter afterwards. 

Clarice — She's on {surreptitiously kicks him). 

Abigail — And I must say, my daughter is not for you. 

Clarice — Why, I never thought of such a thing. 

Charlie — iWell — I had no notion {together). 

Abigail — Likely story. 

Charlie — But now that you've been inventive enough to 
suggest it — 

Clarice — Why not? 

Charlie — My prospects are Ai — only son — solid with rich 
father — plenty of money to keep up any sort of an establish- 
ment — no scandals. Kept off the front page of yellow journals 
so far — shook my bracelet — climbed no rainspouts in evening 
dress — don't walk on all fours in public, and, besides, I love 
her ; come, what do you say ? 

Abigail — Not with that family — I've no use for your 
crowd. 

Clarice — I'm not marrying the crowd. 

Abigail — Years ago your father and my husband were 
partners — equal in everything — now he has millions to my thou- 
sands — and since that new house was built I've never been in- 
vited to put my foot inside of it. 

Charlie — That isn't the governor's fault. 

Abigail — Oh, I know who it is — not that I care — but when 
it comes to family and ancestors I don't step aside for your 
mother — not a bit of it — millions or no millions — I've bought 
sugar in her father's country store too many times. 

Clarice — Wasn't it vinegar? 

Abigail — Put down that cake and keep still. 



Charlie — It isn't her fault entirely — you've never been here 
when they were not abroad — you're to be included in everything 
from now on — I heard mother say so. 

Abigail — Huh. 

Charlie — Spoke of renewing old intimacies. 

Abigail — Did she? (Sarcastic.) 

Charlie — Yours has been the proud — too sensitive nature. 
I heard her say so. 

Abigail — {mollified) — She did ? 

Charlie — And Sis likes Billy — who has been so kind to 
her — why she just said so — not five minutes ago — they like each 
other — don't you, Billy? 

Clarice — Uh, huh. 

Charlie — Born to be sisters — come now — why not? 

Abigail — You're too late. {Clarice, aside, kicks out one 
foot, sidezvays, and shakes her head.) 

Charlie — All right then ; you know best. 

Matthew — {entering door at top of stairs) — Eh, what did 
you say? {Calling in — then goes back.) 

Abigail — Your father is coming. 

Charlie — Don't transact any business with him this morn- 
ing — no matter what he proposes. 

Abigail — About my Arizona lands, I suppose? 

Charlie — Mind — no business — any excuse. I'll explain 
later. 

Matthew — {coming dozvn — he is a large, fine looking, 
smooth cameo-faced man of sixty — vigorous step — and rugged, 
but face too pale for health — nervous and roughly dignified) — 

Abigail — Well, Matthew Vanberg, I'm glad to see you, 
even if it isn't in my house. 

Matthew — That's your own fault, Abigail. 

Abigail — How's Mildred. 

Matthew — Perfectly recovered, as far as I can see. 

Abigail — I notice that Mr. Hammond calls every day — 
he's very attentive. 

Matthew — He ought to be after tipping her out of his 
automobile — fortunately it's no worse. 

Abigail — It's quite romantic — I congratulate you. 

Matthew — She might do worse. 

Abigail — I hope it is settled — especially now. You see. 
Doctor Stanley is betrothed to Clarice. 

Matthew — Your daughter — what's that to do with it? 

Abigail — I'll feel easier if you take her home today. 

{Enter Gilbert — dusty — stands at door.) 

Gilbert — {a young athletic man of tzventy-eight — smooth 
faced, alert, direct in glance and manner — unaffected and sin- 
cere in deportment — rather quiet in speech and movements — till 
roused — then quick and decisive) — Good morning, everybody. 

{Enter Mrs. Stanley from garden zvith roses she places on 
table — a gentle, zvhite-haired zvoman of fifty-five — of medium 
sise — refined and gentle in manner) — Good morning, mother — 
you slept well — were not disturbed? 

Mrs Stanley — I heard you leave the house, and Delia told 
me your errand — you were not too late? 



Gilbert — (putting dozvn instrument case) — No, it's all 
right. 

Abigail — Some accident? 

Gilbert — Farmer's boy kicked by a horse. I trephined that 
boy's fractured skull by the light of a single candle held by his 
father — while the boy's mother acted as surgeon's assistant — it 
was something to remember — the courage of that simple couple. 

Mrs. Stanley — He will live? 

Gilbert — Will be well in a few weeks. 

Mrs. Stanley — {tenderly touching his arm) — My dear 
son. 

Matthew — And how far have you travelled to do this? 

Gilbert — Twenty miles. 

Matthew — And got out of bed early this morning? 

Gilbert — Three o'clock. 

Matthew — It's worth a good round sum of money. Can 
my daug-hter be moved today? 

Gilbert — Today? Oh, no, no — that is, I will see — 

{Goes to table, takes up roses and starts to stairs.) 

She is improving rapidly, but it won't do to take any risks ; 
you know sprains heal slowly. (Exits upstairs.) 

Matthew (to Mrs. Stanley) — My dear Mrs. Stanley, I 
trust this accident that has forced us upon the privacy of your 
home may be our excuse. 

Mrs. Stanley — Do not speak of it again, I beg; it is 
enough that my son and myself have been of some use. 

Matthew — Mrs. Vanberg and myself feel under deep ob- 
ligation. May I make a slight return — for an impersonal pur- 
pose — (she zvaves a refusal gently) — some hospital or something 
you may possibly have an interest in ? — I would feel better. 

Mrs. Stanley — We are more than repaid as it is. He has 
taken away my roses ; I must go for more. (Exit, as if to avoid 
further discussion. ) 

Charlie — (to Abigail, aside) — Remember; no business — 

Matthew — Charlie, telephone your mother to send the car- 
riage for Mildred. 

Charlie — Yes, sir. (Exits into alcove — Clarice starts after 
him, is stopped by Abigail, catching her dress.) 

Abigail — You stay here. (Telephone rings off.) 

Matthew — (contemplating table) — Stanley's breakfast; 
how I envy him — the irony of fortune that loads a man with 
millions, and compels him to feed on bran like a horse. 

Abigail — Isn't your dyspepsia any better? 

Matthew — My latest doctor says so — but I can't see it — 
I've made a dozen — each with a new remedy — at present it's 
horses. 

Abigail — (horrified) — As a diet? 

Matthew — No — to ride — they say it tones me up. 

Clarice — And trims me down. 

Abigail — Doesn't it work? 

Matthew — Work — of the hardest sort — no cure at all — 
I've worn out three horses and am no better that I can see, 

Abigail — Try my remedy. 



Matthew — Abigail, I had hopes there might be one person 
on earth without a remedy — don't destroy an innocent faith. 
You still have unbounded belief in the millions to come out 
of your Arizona property, I suppose? 

Abigail — James made but two business mistakes — one was 
in dying and leaving this undeveloped property on my hands — 
and — well, you know the other. 

Matthew — His division with me — chance decided that — he 
had first choice, but he was determined to load up with those 
wild lands and water concessions ; I disagreed — we shook hands 
and parted. They have been a burden ever since, I imagine. 

Abigail — Up to the present time. 

Matthew — And likely to be for fifty years. But the world 
is filled with visionaries, and I can almost say I may volunteer 
to relieve you of your "Landed Estates." 

Abigail — James said there was gold there — millions. 

Matthew — Undiscovered millions. It's output to date has 
consisted of what? 

Abigail — Expenses and taxes, mostly. 

(Charlie enters, stands up zcith Clarice at windozv.) 

Matthew — Neither you nor your child will ever see any 
change of product. I would advocate acceptance of any offer 
made. 

Abigail — Has one been made? 

Matthew — No ; but things look buoyant — a craze for gold 
hunting in outlandish places is on ; we never know to what cor- 
ner of the earth it may turn. (Crosses to table and pours glass 
of ivater and drinks ) 

Abigail — It may turn my way. 

Charlie — (turning Clarice toward him) — It may turn my 
way (to her affectionately). 

Clarice — (to him) — Stop calling me a corner of the earth. 

Charlie — Well, I want a little corner of the earth I can 
call my own. 

Matthew — Eh? (turns) Oh! (To Abigail) — I might get 
two hundred and fifty thousand. 

Abigail — That's what it cost. 

Matthew — Well, it isn't every financial knot hole that re- 
turns one hundred cents on the dollar. 

Abigail — It's really for Clarice — when she marries. 

Matthew — Then it comes in good time. (To Clarice) — 
My girl, if you can trade off that Arizona desert for a quarter 
of a million and a rising young surgeon, at one clip, vou're in 
luck. 

Clarice — Mr. Vanberg, don't you think, before final ar- 
rangements are made, I'd better be consulted? 

Abigail — Clarice ? 

Clarice — Nobody has asked anybody to marry yet, and if 
he ever does, I'm not so sure I know of anyone who wants to 
marry anybody anyway. 

Abigail — That was settled long ago. 

Clarice — It wasn't and it isn't — so, there. (Exits to gar- 
den, angry.) 



Abigail — You see? (Motions to Mildred's room.) Jeal- 
ousy! 

Matthew — Huh ! Overfeeding. Lovers' quarrel likely. 

Abigail — More likely, pernicious influences. (Looks hard 
at Charlie.) I'm in no fit state to talk business. You must ex- 
cuse me, Matthew. 

Matthew — I'll keep you advised as matters progress. 
(Charlie coughs slightly.) 

Abigail — I don't want to sell. (Exit Abigail into garden.) 

Matthew — My compliments to Mrs. Stanley. (To Char- 
lie) — Are they going to send the carriage? 

Charlie — Yes. (Goes to door and looks off into garden.) 

Matthew — Let us go; what are you waiting for? That 
woman always gets on my nerves — women are the bane of busi- 
ness. No benefits from my ride this day. 

Charlie — Those New York doctors don't seem to do you 
much good. 

Matthew — Doctor's cat's foot — they don't know anything. 

Charlie — Don't understand your case. 

Matthew — iWell, well, well, I know it, I know it. What 
am I to do? — I try everything — I wonder what has made her so 
suspicious about that land (to self). 

Charlie — Try young Stanley. 

Matthew — Eh ? 

Charlie — He's a good doctor. 

Matthew — Doctor! (Deep scorn.) He's a sport — worst 
kind. 

Charlie — Easy ; no one knows it — here. 

Matthew — LTm — (grunts low). 

Charlie — Sport or no sport, he can help you. 

Matthew — (pacing floor) — Well, trot him out — I'm ready 
for anything — what can he do? 

Charlie — I don't know. 

Matthew — (fretting, zvith pain) — Then what are you talk- 
ing about ? Confound that woman ! 

Charlie — Let me call a carriage. 

Matthew — Aren't you able to ride your horse home? 

Charlie — Of course. 

Matthew — Well, so am I. (Gilbert comes dozun stairs.) 
She's able to make the trip I suppose? (To Gilbert.) 

Gilbert — It's possible ; but — 

Matthew — Good ; I have sent for a carriage. 

Gilbert — Very well. (Touches bell; Delia enters.) Tell 
Lucille the carriage will soon be here to take Miss Vanberg 
home. 

Della — Yes, sir ; your breakfast is getting cold. 

Gilbert — Very well, bring it. (She goes upstairs, comes 
down and crosses to kitchen door during following :) Won't 
you sit down (to Matthezv) ? 

Matthew — No ; vou have some influence with Mrs. West- 
lake? 

Gilbert — Possibly ; I never tried to exercise it. 

Matthew — Do so now — for her own advantage. 

Gilbert — In what way? 



8 

Matthew— She could get rid of that Arizona land. A 
syndicate is forming that thinks it needs that property — it will 
go up in smoke, but it's a chance for her to unload. (Delia 
comes doivn stairs.) 

Gilbert — I see. (To Delia) — Did you tell the nurse? 

Della — Miss Vanberg herself said she would go if you ad- 
vised it. {Delia exists off R.) 

Matthew — Which you do? 

Gilbert — As you desire. 

Matthew — Her mother is anxious for her return. 

Gilbert — Naturally — I wanted to make sure of no mishap 
— no risk of future lameness. 

Matthew — You will, of course, retain the case till the cure 
is complete ? 

Gilbert — Thanks ; I expected that. 

Matthew — Do you confine your efforts to surgery? 
* Gilbert — Principally. How long have you had it? 

Matthew- — Had what? 

Gilbert — Dyspepsia. 

Matthew — {Delia, bring in breakfast) — Twelve years. 

Gilbert — How long have you been making money in large 
quantities ? 

Matthew — About the same time: why? {Delia goes out.) 

Gilbert — ^What did you do before that ? 

Matthew — Made it in smaller quantities. Eat your break- 
fast. 

Gilbert — With your permission {sits and eats). My ride 
gave me an appetite. 

Matthew — Mine didn't. 

Gilbert — What did you do before that? 

Matthew — Superintendent of a division of railroad in the 
Rockies. 

Gilbert — And before that ? 

Matthew — Foreman of a construction gang on the same 
road. 

Gilbert — And before that ? 

Matthew — I was one of the gang. 

Gilbert — Lived in the open air, didn't you? 

Matthew — Worked — ^ate — slept — out of doors. 

Gilbert — Could eat then? 

Matthew — Anything; baled hay; I was young. 

Gilbert — Try it again. 

Matthew — The hay? 

Gilbert — No ; the work. Put on overalls and rough boots 
— take a shovel and go at it. 

Matthew — Is that your prescription? 

Gilbert — Yes ; work out your road tax — and, while you 
are about it, work out mine. 

Charlie — And mine. 

Gilbert — Good ! There's six days for you. You'll earn 
nine dollars and six nights of sweet sleep; by that time I'll find 
some other people whose road tax you can shovel out. That will 
make your work interesting. 

Charlie — And say, father, you might fill in that low spot 
in the polo ground. That will take two weeks more. 



Gilbert — Just the thing. Work with an object. 

Matthew — Yes ; for you fellows to play on. 

Gilbert — And forget there ever was a dollar in the world. 

Matthew — I've got the habit of making money and can't 
let go. 

Gilbert — Then use it for good. 

Matthew — In what particular way? 

Gilbert — That's a nice question to ask me — you a multi- 
millionaire and I a struggling young M. D. ; but turn over a 
hundred thousand to me. 

Matthew — What for? 

Gilbert— To build a hospital for the refined poor. 

Matthew — Bosh! You'd have all the miserly well-to-do 
on your hands in a week. 

Gilbert — I tell you one use for money. The truth is you 
rich are all alike — you have but one object for wealth — your- 
selves. 

Matthew — You are plain spoken at any rate. 

Gilbert — A physician's privilege. Follow my advice — dig 
in the earth — get back to nature — get back to your primal self — 
forget business — forget worry — forget money. 

Matthew — That has the right ring to it. I will. ( Takes 
out zvatch.) I have just time to get to that syndicate meeting. 
Charlie, look after Mildred. I'll try not to make another cent. 
Good day {at door). By the way, don't forget to urge Mrs. 
^estlake to get rid of her Arizona lands — encourage her to take 
my offer. My compliments to your mother. I'd give a million 
dollars for your appetite. {Exit Matthew.) 

Charlie — Has he any chance? {Takes out pipe and fills 
it at hozul and smokes.) 

Gilbert — He's half cured. What's doing? 

Charlie — Not much. Didn't see you at the boat race. 

Gilbert — No. 

Charlie — The Frothingham was there. 

GiLBERT^Oh, drop it. 

Charlie — You may not find that so easy — very busy here? 

Gilbert — No, why? 

Charlie — If you're going to be around I'd like you to take 
Erskine's place on the polo team — match on our grounds in a 
few days. If dad gets the holes filled up {laughs). 

Gilbert — I'm out of practice. 

Charlie — Oh, rot; we must win — it's sure if you're in. 

Gilbert — Sold my ponies. 

Charlie — Use mine ; you could call on your patient {jerks 
head at Mildred's room), and get in trim on the grounds at the 
same time. 

Gilbert — So I could. Just the thing. 

Charlie — Is this genuine? 

Gilbert— What? """This"? 

Charlie — Why, this — "this." Your latest "sentimental 
journey." 

Gilbert — No joking now. 

Charlie — |Why, confound it — you're not serious? 

Gilbert — More than serious. 



10 

Charlie — But it's impossible. 

Gilbert — Yes, I know — I feel it is impossible — tbat very 
thing makes it possible — that's it — that's just it. So unlike the 
rest. Every time I turn to it it's a mixup of nightmare and 
Heaven — I want to run away and can't — want to stay and don't 
dare. 

Charlie — Come, now — no funny business. 

Gilbert — You're quite right. 

Charlie — You're in earnest. 

Gilbert — Right again. 

Charlie — She don't care for you? 

Gilbert — Right. 

Charlie — Then what do you want to marry her for? 

Gilbert — I don't know. 

Charlie — Do you want to marry her? 

Gilbert — Don't know. 

Charlie — Are you going to marry her? 

Gilbert — Don't know. 

Charlie — What are you going to do? 

Gilbert — I hardly think that concerns you at present. 

Charlie — Yes, it does. 

Gilbert — No. 

Charlie — It does. 

Gilbert — Well, what the devil — 

Charlie — I love the girl, that's what the devil. 

Gilbert — You love the girl — you love — you — 

Charlie — Yes, I love her — Clarice. Are you going to mar- 
ry her? Now, mind, if you do I'll go on making love to her just 
the same. 

Gilbert — Oh, I see. 

Charlie— Are you? 

Gilbert — (sigh of relief) — Her mother says so. 

Charlie — Oh, damn (looks around). But she don't know 
your situation — don't any of them here know — now, do they? 

Gilbert — Look here, Vanberg — 

Charlie — Well, now — do they? Do they? We were in 
college together — same set — and afterwards — now and then 
we've met — you know where mostly. 

Gilbert — Well — 

Charlie — Well — Come, I say, she's a good girl — Clarice 
is — 

Gilbert — You mean I'm hitting off the paces too fast for 
any good girl ? 

Charlie — Well, what do you say? 

Gilbert — I've quit it — out of it — for good and all. 

Charlie — Since what particular date? 

Gilbert — Ever since — Well, ever since I came out here. 

Charlie — Two weeks. 

Gilbert — What does time matter? — two weeks — two days 
— an instant — a face^ — the flash of a soul and the change of 
front in the destiny of a man is accomplished forever. 

Charlie — You mean it? 

Gilbert — To a finish. Never mind what has been ; from 
now on I quit. 



11 

Charlie — But will it quit you? 

Gilbert — It must. 

Charlie — The dainty establishment in Tenth street. 

Gilbert — Ended for me. 

Charlie — No more quiet little rubbers at bridge, eh — and 
the gentle Frothingham? 

Gilbert — Goes with it. 

Charlie — You say it easy ; ; I wish you luck. By the way, 
you don't happen to have my last notes about you? 

Gilbert — No. 

Charlie — You haven't been to the governor? (Gilbert 
looks at him.) No, of course not — I'd have heard something 
drop if you had. 

Gilbert — She has them. 

Charlie — Frothingham? The deuce you say. 

Gilbert — I needed cash (bitterly). I risked everything I 
had in that stock deal you put me on to — everything my mother 
had — the roof over her head — and when the slump came I had 
to meet my margins somehow, and I borrowed the money from 
a woman ;— from her — I had sunk low enough for that. 

Charlie — But you got out on the rally. 

Gilbert — Oh, yes. I'm out with a whole skin. I'll get 
those notes for you as soon as I see her; but I'm done — no 
more double life for me. From now on I'm a doctor. 

Charlie — You've set the pace too high, old man — you're 
best out of it, and I hope you get out — clean. 

Gilbert — As to money, yes ; as to the rest — 

Charlie — Throw it down and walk on it. 

Gilbert — You talk well. 

Charlie — I can afford to — everybody expects the limit in 
everything from me — I'm one of the multi's-plutos — vulgar rich. 
The cost don't count with me — more the better. It's part of 
my training and best sort of free advertising — but with you it's 
different— it don't fit. 

Gilbert — I've had the same front to keep up — with no mon- 
ey to do it on — I play a handy game, and turn to the cars ; meet 
a pretty woman ; now somewhat socially adrift, but once at the 
front of New York's exclusive set. She's part of the game. 
It's very easy — and before I know it — an establishment where 
cards are played. 

Charlie — Always on the square, old man. 

Gilbert — As those things go — but still for money — and 
there I am. A man with a romance and a — past. (Laughs dis- 
gustedly. ) 

Charlie — Well — I'm glad you've given it the shake — old 
man. If for no other reason, for the sake of this little mother 
of yours. (Gilbert drops into chair.) I'll take a turn in the 
air till Sis is ready. Ah! so long. (Somezuhat embarrassed, 
exits into garden.) 

(Gilbert sits abstractedly a moment — stirs — then fumbles 
glass on table tips it over and straightens it, and filially leans 
head on his hands — elbozvs on knees.) 

(Enter Mrs. Stanley, and comes softly to him,.) 



12 

Mrs. Stanley {hiying hand on his hand) — Bertie — isn't 
home the same? 

Gilbert {taking her hand) — The dearest place on earth, 
niOther. 

Mrs. Stanley — Then is my son the same? 

Gilbert — Why, yes, mother, just the same. 

Mrs. Stanley — No {shakes her head). These weary eyes 
— these hnes about the mouth — are not my boy's. 

Gilbert — Your boy has been up since three a m., and rid- 
den twenty miles of rough roads. {Forced jocidarity.) 

Mrs. Stanley — I know — it is beautiful of you — to save 
life — but the look I mean is back of one night's loss of sleep. 

Gilbert — Time has something to say to every one of us, 
myself included — and besides, this vacation must end and I go 
back to work. 

Mrs. Stanley — It is my ambition for you — my pride in 
you — and so I want you to go back with a light heart and a free 
mind. 

Gilbert — Do you want me to leave you ? 

Mrs. Stanley — I want you to be worthy of yourself. 

Gilbert — You, too, are not the same — I have been selfish — 
left you alone. 

Mrs. Stanley — No, never alone — I have my boy and his 
life in my thoughts every day. So you see I do not want for 
pleasant company. 

Gilbert — That I ever forget it only proves more fully my 
selfishness. Yes, I am — I prefer the ease of the city. I should 
come home to work — what a field for usefulness right here at 
our door ! 

Mrs. Stanley — You must not let sentiment stand in the 
way of your career. 

Gilbert — I am indolent — I haven't worked enough — but 
from now on I will — I promise that — I am in earnest — from now 
on, mother — I have every motive for work — every motive in the 
world. 

Mrs. Stanley — Bertie ! 

Gilbert — Yes. 

Mrs Stanley — iWell ? 

Gilbert — Well ? 

Mrs. Stanley — I'm waiting — do you love her? 

Gilbert — Why, mother? 

Mrs. Stanley — That is what I want to see. Your love for 
a noble-hearted girl, to whom you are everything. 

Gilbert — You ask much, madam, in this age when wealth 
and social place are ruthlessly crowding poor little Love into dark- 
corners. 

Mrs. Stanley — I do not expect you to be free from world- 
liness in these modern days — but remember always love alone 
lights with a holy flame the darkest deeps of life. However it 
may come, dearest, hold it with the strength of steel — closely — 
shigly — for eternity. Believe me, there is little else worth while. 
{He embraces her tenderly.) 

{Mddred has come on from inner room at head of stairs 
during last exchange — stands on stairs back — is dressed for de- 



13 

parture — leans lightly on a zvalking cane — a Une type of Ameri- 
can ivoman of about 24, dressed in a pretty morning dress of 
silver grey.) 

Mildred — And the lovers met in secret every happy day. 
{Laughs lightly ) 

Mrs. Stanley — Concealment will no longer avail us I see. 
Good morning. 

Mildred — If I were a man I would want such a mother. 

Gilbert — There isn't such another. 

Mildred— (rau^.s cane) — I have stolen your cane. 

Gilbert- — {going to her to assist her) — Sit here. 

Mildred — {zvaving him aside) — It is not necessary — un- 
less you insist. Now that I am to go away, I find I am stronger 
than we thought. 

Mrs. Stanley — We are glad of that, but we do not want 
to lose you. 

Mildred — You are not going to lose me — so easily. The 
stray kitten once befriended knows the doorstep where it is safe 
— I am coming often. When the terrors of the world beset me, 
I know now where to- turn for refuge — if I may. 

Mrs. Stanley — Whenever you feel like making an old wo- 
man happy, come. 

Mildred — You may regret your generosity. I feel I have 
been a little spoiled by your kindness and will not want to lose it. 

Mrs. Stanley — That is just what I desire — and as soon as 
you are well — 

Mildred But I am well — see {lifts cane — stands on lame 
foot), I can stand alone quite nicely. 

Gilbert — I say — don't do that. 

Mildred — You fear I will injure my foot and not be able to 
go today. 

Gilbert — I want my work to end in a permanent and per- 
fect cure. 

Mildred — And you want my cure to be a thorough piece of 
work? 

Gilbert — Yes. 

Mildred — I always disliked that word "Thorough." It 
seems to end everything. I never was thorough in anything; 
I am afraid of thorough people. 

Gilbert — You are not afraid of me? 

Mildred — Every one is afraid of doctors — but I am not 
afraid of you — not often. Oh, Mrs. Stanley — you have been 
so good to me here — a stranger. 

Mrs. Stanley — No, my child, not a stranger. 

Mildred — And under your roof I have found peace and, in 
spite of pain, almost happiness — and but for him I might have 
been a cripple for life. I have seen so many cripples — on the 
streets — everywhere, and I pitied them in a sort of vague way 
as something far off, but now that it has come so nea.r — do you 
think I can ever be grateful enough? 

Gilbert — You put the matter too strongly. 

Mildred — Please let me look at it that way. 

Gilbert — Thank you — very much. 

{Enter Clarice — comes to Mildred.) 



14 

Clarice — Hello, Mildred. So glad to see you down — go- 
ing? 

Mildred — Yes — running away. 

Clarice — Wish I was. I may some day. I think you're 
lucky. I'd be willing to sprain an ankle — I'd be willing to break 
a — well, anything — for a little excitement and liberty. I'm going 
to surprise somebody some frosty morning — see if I don't. 

(Enter Abigail and Charlie, in converse.) 

Charlie — Don't sell for any price till I say so — leave it to 
me — I'll make you millions. Oh, hello. Sis. In harness again — 
that's good. 

Mildred — Thanks to our dear friends. 

Charlie — Best doctor in the state. This is Mrs. Westlake 
— Aunt Abbie — you know — 

Mildred — Oh, yes. How do you do. Aunt Abbie? {Quiet- 
ly cordial.) 

Abigail {rather stiHy) — Quite well, thank you. Miss 
Vanberg. 

Mildred {freezes up slightly) — It is some years since I 
saw you, Mrs. |Westlake. 

Abigail — A great many — 

Mildred — Oh! Is it as bad as all that? 

Abigail — You were playing on the grass plot beside your 
grandfather's country store the last time I saw you. 

Mildred — How charming. 

Abigail — Barefooted. 

Mildred — Indeed ! An original disciple of the Kneip Cure. 
I remember now — you wore a yellow sunshade and apron. What 
particular quality or emotion does yellow stand for, Doctor? 

Gilbert — Noisiness, I think — something of that sort. 

Mildred — Nonsense. How nice it is to find you and Clar- 
ice are cousins. 

Abigail — They are soon to be related in another way. 

Clarice — Mother ! 

Gilbert Eh? What's that? 

Abigail — You know you've been as good as engaged for a 
long time. 

Clarice — How can you say that? 

Abigail — It's nothing to be ashamed of. 

Mildred — Ah — {turning to Gilbert) — You spoke of a sur- 
prise. 

Abigail — I arranged it, and now that Clarice will soon be 
very rich, I don't see why it should be put off. Won't you act 
as a bridesmaid? 

Mildred — Delighted 

Clarice — Now, mother, will you ever let up? {Angry.) 

Gilbert — Aunt Abbie, I must refuse to allow you to couple 
Billy's name and mine in this manner. 

Abigail — Why, it's an understood thing. 

Gilbert No such good fortune for me. 

Abigail — Have you refused him? {To Clarice.) 

Clarice — ( frightened ) — I — no — not quite. 

Abigail — There, you see — 



15 

Gilbert — I haven't asked her — I knew better — we like each 
other, but not that way. Billy is free to follow her heart — so 
am I — that is if I have any. I never supposed you took it se- 
riously or I'd have cleared this matter up long ago. 

Abigail — I understand. I have been deceived — by you — 
by my daughter — by you all. Don't speak to me, Katherine — 
not today — I'm all unstrung — it seems no matter where I turn 
I'm opposed by some member of a certain family. They're my 
"Bate nore," Clarice! Come home! (Exit in anger ) 

Clarice — (coming to Gilbert throwing arms around him) 
— Now I hope she's satisfied. Thank you, Bert. You don't 
know how many hours and hours of arguments you've saved 
me. (Goes to door.) 

Gilbert — All right, Bill. 

Charlie — (embracing Gilbert) — Doctor, you have saved 
two lives — perhaps dozens of lives — God bless you ! (Exits with 
Clarice C.) 

Mildred — You are right. Yellow is her color. 

Mrs. Stanley — I regret that your departure should be so 
disturbed. 

Mildred — It's very interesting. (To Gilbert, archly) — Then 
1 am not to be a bridesmaid after all ? 

Gilbert — Not at my wedding — if I can help it. (They 
look intently at each other.) 

Mildred — I wonder if Charlie has gone for a carriage? 
(Turns up stage.) 

Gilbert — Yes. 

Mrs. Stanley — (to Gilbert) — I am glad you have spoken. 
My mind is cleared of doubts. Follow your heart. (Exits.) 

(Gilbert stands looking at Mildred, who turns ) 

Mildred — Your mother has gone? 

Gilbert — For a few moments. I will call her. 

Mildred — Won't you disturb her? 

Gilbert — You will need Lucille, perhaps. 

Mildred — But I don't want Lucille — not yet. So I am to 
go today? 

Gilbert — If they come for you. 

Mildred — Do you think I am able to go? 

Gilbert — Do you? 

Mildred — I am the patient — patients never know any- 
thing. 

Gilbert — There is an old adage that says, — the physician 
who is his own patient has a poor doctor. 

Mildred — But you are not the patient. 

Gilbert — No — you are. 

Mildred — Of course I am. 

Gilbert — /Well ! 

Mildred— Well ! 

Gilbert — Don't you see — if you go away — it comes to that 
— I must take the prescription. 

Mildred — How nice. Do you do that for all your patients? 

Gilbert — (shakes his head). 

Mildred — But I always understood doctors never take their 
own medicine. 



16 

Gilbert — Sometimes they can not help it. 

Mildred — To go or not to go. 

Gilbert — Which do you wish it to be? 

Mildred — I have no choice — I'm only the submissive pa- 
tient. (Sound of auto horn outside.) And you hear — you have 
decided it — I am to go. 

Gilbert — And I am to take my medicine after all. {Goes 
up to window and remains unseen by Hammond.) 

Mildred — If I were revengeful I would say it serves you 
right. 

Good morning, Mr. Hammond. 

(Enter Hammond at door C — in. auto costume. Rather ath- 
letic man of forty or thereabouts — active — nervous — rather loud 
— inclined to laugh at trifles — talks quickly and blitffly, but as a 
gentleman — smiles when he talks — a man inclined to stoutness, 
which tendency he keeps down by more than average activity — 
(/ flatulent fullness and paleness that speaks of too intense appli- 
cation to the denmnds of an intense life showing under a z'ig- 
orous exterior.) 

Hammond — (speaks from doorway) — Ah! Good morning, 
Miss Vanberg; good morning. You are quite restored to us 
at last. I can hardly express my happiness. I have been dele- 
gated by your mother to bring you home if you can make the 
journey, and of course you can. 

Mildred — Yes. Thank you for your beautiful flowers. You 
have not missed a day. You are very kind. 

Hammond — A few orchids — what sort of amends? After 
being guilty of the whole mishap. 

Mildred — Now remember (shaking her finger at him). 
You know very well you were not — 

Hammond — No — no — no excusings. I can never forgive 
myself — 

Mildred — Yet you make me forgive you every time we 
have met since the accident — when you're quite blameless. 

Hammond — Cunning — artfulness of man — no — no — let me 
blame myself — to have you forgive me — it's my one supreme 
pleasure to be forgiven by you. I thrive on it— meat and drink, 
you know. You will go — you are quite restored ? 

Mildred — Quite. 

Hammond — That's good. (During above has shozvn rest- 
ivencss under Gilbert's gaze — then turns on him.) I say — why 
do you look at me? You make me nervous — look some other 
way. 

Gilbert — With pleasure. 

Mildred — Why this is — Doctor Stanley — you must be 
friends. 

Hammond — Stanley! — why of course — there in the shadow 
I didn't recognize you — seems to me I did hear he was your doc- 
tor. Lucky boy. Know Stanley quite well — I say though, there 
are some eyes I can feel in the dark — they pierce the back of my 
head. I never noticed it before — but you have those eyes. 

Gilbert — Unpremeditated on my part, I assure you. 

Mildred — Hypnosis. 



17 

Hammond — (laughs) — No— nerves — a notion — you have 
told Doctor Stanley how I caused your injury. 

Mildred — But you did not. 

Hammond — You see, Doc — this was the way of it — we 
came bowling along — ^almost dusk — you know how I drive — and 
1 didn't see it — thought it was a dog — didn't see it was a child 
playing in the road — didn't see it at all till she reached for the 
lever — I turned quick — just in time- — thought I could make it — 
I know how to handle a machine — took instruction in France — , 
sort of Bob Handy at it, you know — but we run against a stump 
and over we go — as usual, the undeserving escapes with a 
scratch or two, while our heroine here receives the injury. It 
is the worst misfortune that ever happened. 

Mildred — No — no — it is the best — the very best. (Gilbert 
starts — looks intently at her.) Your only thought was for me. 
And — and — you see — I'm quite recovered — and ready to trust 
myself to your protection again. (Flinging a defiant glance at 
Gilbert.) 

Hammond — It is my wish that you make your trust perma- 
nent. 

Mildred — A reckless wish. (Enter Mrs. Stanley at door 
from garden L — Mildred going to her.) Ah, Mrs. Stanley, I 
must say goodbye. 

Mrs. Stanley — You must go then?? 

Mildred — Yes. One look at your garden before goodbye. 
(Goes zvith Mrs. S. and stands in converse — her arm around 
her.) 

Hammond — (to Gilbert) — Did you hear that? "My only 
thought was for her"— there's a treasure — a woman with appre- 
ciation. 

Mildred — (to the men who turn to observe them) — Now, 
this isn't for you men — turn your backs and don't listen. 

Hammond — Stanley, I never wanted to be a mother till 
now. And you've been nursing that foot for two weeks. Ah, 
you doctors — lucky dogs — get the best of everything. I'd give 
a fortune to be able to set that ankle (zvith sincere feeling in 
last line). 

Gilbert — It wasn't broken — pardon my staring at you — a 
physician's privilege. 

Hammond — Certainly. Well — I'm all right, am I not? I 
feel all right. 

Gilbert — That's good. 

Hammond — Live here? 

Gilbert — Yes. 

Hammond — That's why I haven't seen you at our little club, 
eh? Since that rouser of a night. The Frothingham, eh? 
(nudges Gilbert). 

Gilbert— Yes. 

Hammond — Say, what was the matter with me that night? 
I held up my glass to your final toast, and that's all I recollect. 
Fainted, didn't I ? superheated room. She always keeps that 
house too warm — that glass of brandy brought me round all 
right — I hit the corner of the table as I toppled over — I was 
sore here for a week (hand over heart). 



18 

Gilbert — ^'oll didn't strike anything? 

Hammond — Say, what did you do to me? 

Gilbert — I gave you a hypodermic of ammonia — over your 
heart. 

Hammond— The deuce you say? |What for? 

Gilbert — Syncope. 

Hammond — Hell! That's heart failure. Oh! Not much. 
You're an alarmist. Nothing but champagne and hot room — 
that's all. Do you mean it? (Gilbert nods.) I thought it was 
the brandy that brought me round. You saved my life. 

Gilbert — That's my trade. 

Hammoni:) — I'll send you a check. 

Gilbert — Excuse my staring. 

Hammond — Oh, that's all right — a sort of inherited ten- 
dency to fear. ]\Iy father died in mortal terror over a fancied 
loss of his fortune. It hits me in this way — I have intense likes 
and dislikes {musing to self, aloud). My grandfather went that 
way. 

Gilbert — Oh. you're all right. 

Hammond — Of course — of course — muscles hard — nerves 
steady — vitality at concert pitch — they all lived life — all the great 
ones — didn't dream it — I'm no dreamer — I want the real thing 
— must have it. Why, old Bismarck hit it up till he was eighty- 
five — all the time. He fell down in a faint, too — so did Caesar 
— lots of times — I'm sound as a nut — why, I never know what it 
means to go to bed tired. 

Gilbert — The trouble with you is you make too much mon- 
ey and you spend too much. 

Hammond — You mean I work too hard by day — and play 
too much at night. 

Gilbert — Your struggle for great wealth and your excesses 
in spending it. Well — you're murdering existence. 

Hammond — Thanks for the tip (laughs). I'll swing into 
line with the popular procession. I'll join the reformers. 

(Noise of carriage outside.) 

Mildred — There is my brother with a carriage. If you will 
tell him that I am to ride with you I will soon be ready (Lucille 
enters zi'itli many zvraps, etc.), and you. might help Lucille with 
the wraps. 

Mrs. Stanley — I'll call, Delia. (She exits.) 

Hammond — (taking things from Lucille and standing with 
arms full) — And no mishaps this time. Doctor, we may meet 
again. 

Gilbert — We may. 

Hammond — My gratitude for your skill and care. Good 
day. 

Gilbert — Good day. (Hammond and Lucille e.vit.) 

Gilbert — Isn't there something I can carry out? 

Mildred — No. I don't believe he left a single thing. 

Gilbert — What did you mean by that? 

Mildred — By what? 

Gilbert — By what you said. 

Mildred — What did I say? 



19 

Gilbert — You said it was the best — the very best misfor- 
tune that had ever happened. 

Mildred — Did I? 

Gilbert — ;What did you mean ? 

Mildred — Isn't there something you can carry out? 

Gilbert — No. What did you mean? 

Mildred — There — I beheve Mr. Hammond is right. 

Gilbert — Oh, confound Mr. Hammond. 

Mildred — Not in the least. He is always agreeable and 
has advanced ideas on many things. 

Gilbert — And ambitious too, no doubt? 

Mildred — Boundless ambitions I've heard. 

Gilbert — You will marry him? 

Mildred — There. He is right — your eyes are disagreeable 
— sometimes. I feel them now — in the back of my head {puts 
liaiids tip to head). 

Gilbert Why did you say it was the best misfortune? 

Mildred Because it has enabled me to live for two weeks 
— two little weeks a life I had never known and can never for- 
get. You are a man — I don't know what or how men feel — but 
women love peace — some women. I am one of them at heart — 
and to me this house spells peace. It is yours — be grateful for 
it — deserve it for the mother's sake. On second thought there 
is something you can carry out. 

Gilbert — What ? 

Mildred — Didn't we have a long, serious talk last night? 

Gilbert — Serious — not long. 

Mildred — True — not long — only four hours. What did we 
talk about? 

Gilbert — Careers mostly — my career. 

Mildred — That is what I want you to carry out— the am- 
bitions born of the atmosphere of this house and the mother 
love here can not be other than noble. Fulfill them the best you 
can. 

Gilbert — I've made a noble commencement. 

Mildred — You saved a life today before sunrise. Oh, Lu- 
cille told me — I envy you. 

Gilbert — Envy me? 

Mildred — Your life — haven't you told me the story of your 
childhood ? Haven't I dragged it out of you piecemeal ? — love — 
love — love — that's what it has been — you were born to it — it 
has saturated every hour of your existence, and now on the 
basis of this love build your career. 

Gilbert — Career means success — success is only another 
name for money. 

Mildred — Oh — money ( scornfully ) . 

Gilbert — Yes — money. The new orthography for career. 
Listen to any chance word of conversation — everywhere — on 
every corner — read it in every scrap of printed paper — success — 
money — money — the sole and only measure of success — with it 
we compass every heart's desire — without it our brightest 
dreams vanish — for it we step into dark and hidden ways and 
brazenly forget the sense of shame. 

Mildred Oh, don't. I have heard nothing but this sort 
of thing since I was so high (Bus). It has become necessary to 



20 

mv life — T suppose it will rule nie to the end — I am a part of 
it — but I hate it. h'ather fought for money night and day — it 
came — it still comes — and now ambition — social power — but lit- 
tle love. I am not satisfied — I do not understand it, but I am 
not satisfied. There is something better. Then I was hurt and 
carried in here. My ideals have been met — roused in a way — 
I never felt possible. I want to look to you as something too 
strong for mere sentiment — too earnest for mere material suc- 
cess. 

Gilbert {intensely) — By what right do you want this? 

Mildred — Ry the right of pure friendship — by the right of 
the higher ideal our brief comradeship has lifted me to — (a 
pause; she e.vfends her hand)- Goodbye. 

Gilbert {taking her hand) — And if I strive for this, what 
then ? 

Mildred — You will walk into the morning of life and carry 
the hearts of your friends with you. 

Gilbert — I have only room for one heart beside my own. 

Mildred — (zvhispers) — Goodbye, my friend. There are 
moments in life that remain in spite of ourselves — -you remem- 
ber — my third night here. Lucille was worn out with watching 
and had fallen asleep. I was feverish and in pain and could 
not rest — I can not bear pain — you heard me moan and came in. 

Gilbert — I dared not give you a stronger narcotic. 

Mildred — But you took my hand — sat by my side and softly 
drew the bed so that my eyes could fall on the flowers in the 
moonlight and talked to me, and your voice and the soft beauty 
of the night lulled me to sleep — and when I awoke you still held 
tny hand, and it was dawn — 

Gilbert — It was dawn (A pause.) 

Mildred — My love. (She sinks into his arms.) 

CURTAIN. 



21 



ACT 11. 

Scene — The Vanhcrg house — drawing room — large windozv at 
back, overlooking an extcnsizr view of the Hudson River 
and the palisades — a room in a mansion on Riverside drive 
— means of exit to right and left — details as elaborate as 
pleases — rooin is a living room, on a large and magnificent 
scale — contains a large table, strezun zvith papers and books; 
a fine secretaire on left — a built-in fireplace — an Empire 
room of palatial proportions. 

At Rise — Lucille discovered, carefully zviping, zvith soft silk 
cloth, a small cloisonne vase she takes from table — she is 
nicely dressed as a maid — zvears Chinese crepe zvaist of 
black — as curtain goes up, a ring is heard off — she stops at 
sound — then resumes zvork — a slight pause, then enter 
Hammond from main entrance zvhich is from a magnificent 
hall seen through the entrance on right — he stands in door 
— looks about at her— then over his shoidder, then at her 
again; she has glanced up at his coming, then resumes 
zvork. 

Person — (zvho shozvs Hammond in) — Miss Vanberg, sir? 

Ferson — (exit). 

Hammond — Mrs. Vanberg — Ah, Lucille; bon jour (seeing 
Lucille) . 

Lucille — (pretends to be startled) — Ah, yon startle me, 
Monsieur. 

Hammond — What's new? 

Lucille — He comes often, stops long ; they meet here and 
elsewhere — he looks happy — she is always dreaming or softly 
singing. 

Hammond — You told me all this before — it proves nothing. 
I, too, come often, stay long. We meet here and elsewhere — I 
look happy — she may sing for me. But you warn me of a dan- 
ger and — well — (rubbing his cheek zvith silk unconsciously) — 
you warn me — of a danger — (she pulls at cloth) — eh, what? 

Lucille — The silk — why do you rub your cheek? 

Hammond — Oh, was I? ha! a boyhood habit- — instinct. I 
like the touch of silk, I like the sound, when it rustles. Do you 
know you're improving — in looks, you're — 

Lucille — (snatching cloth azvay and turning abruptly from 
him) — Yes, I know. 

(Mrs. Vanberg enters, rather small zviry zvoman of about fifty, 
with quiet manners, decision of manner, and a repose that 
seems genuine, until she is roused, and then shozvs itself 
acquired — she is dressed in the refined elegance of zvealth 
and good taste, combined zvith a studied effort at simplic- 
ity that is betrayed by the one large diamond brooch she 
zvears at her throat — her costume is a fine neutral gray, zvith 
a supply of lace better befitting a younger woman; her hair 
is not gray but dark, zvith a decided strand of zvhite running 
from her right temple back — she speaks in a low, rather 
pleasing voice with gentleness, until roused, that has a ten- 



22 

dcncy to be strident — the type of little yoimg i^'oniaii witli 

baby eyes that usually groics into a purring feline in middle 

years. ) 

Elizabeth — I am very happy to see you. 

Hammond — Thanks. Good morning! 

Elizabeth — You threatened to leave u.s. 

Hammond — I found it too difficuU. There is something 
here I covet too much to leave, and where the heart is — you 
know my thought — 

Elizabeth You do my daughter great honor. 

Hammond — I want her for my wife. [With her, my for- 
tune and amhitions amount to something worth while. As it is 
they're wasted. 

Elizabeth — Why not make the venture now ? 

Hammond — You advise it? (She nods and smiles). T will. 
(Stops.) By the way, I promised you those notes — here they 
are. (Hands two notes to her.) I would like to know if Char- 
lie signed them? 

Elizabeth- — It is his signature. 

Hammond — I mean for the amount named. 

Elizabeth — Charles will tell that. 

Hammond — Yes, Charlie can best explain. 

Elizabeth — Did he lose this money in a gambling resort? 

Hammond — Not a public one; a sort of — well, private club 
— an apartment where bridge is the principal thing — in fact, 
without the game the apartment would have no cause for l)eing. 

Elizabeth — (turns notes over — reads — stops — looks at 
Hammond, then at notes again). The name of a woman. My 
son lost this money at her apartments? 

Hammond — It would seem so. The ])aper was floating 
about ; such women are always in the impecunious stage — bank 
notes flutter through their fairy fingers like summer birds over 
a meadow. This came to my eye in the hands of a friend — by 
chance ; and I wanted to keep Charlie from any mipleasant or 
awkward comment — people will wag their tongues at any ex- 
cuse, however trivial. 

Elizabeth — And there would be talk because of the wom- 
an's name — (looking at note). 

Hammond — Pardon my interference but you see how I 
stand — ^(bluff heartiness) — I feel a brotherly interest in your 
son, if I mav presume to use the expression. (I\Hldred heard 
singing lightly off.) The carol of the lark — 

Elizabeth — Life's spring time of song and love ! Now, if 
I were a young man, with courage — 

Hammond — Just my opinion — I will. (Starts off — met by 
Vanberg who enters in rough clothes — a telegram in his hand.) 

Elizabeth — Why, Matthew, what's the matter? 

Matthew' — That vou, Betsy? Fine morning, Hammond! 
Been shoveling gravel — (to H.) — working costume — doctor's 
orders. What vour hurry? (To H.) Hope I didn't interrupt 
(to her). 

Hammond — Not at all. 

Elizabeth — Mr. Hammond has spoken of Mildred. 
Matthew — To her? 



23 

Hammond — Of her. 

Matthew — Well, pitch in and win. 

Elizabeth — Matthew ! 

Matthew — I'm a plain man, so I don't mind saying you 
have two very firm allies right here. 

Hammond — I had expected that. 

Matthew — Uh ! That's good. By the way, your board 
met in special session last night, I suppose? 

Hammond — Yes, and adjourned. 

Matthew — Adjourned ? 

Hammond — Without action. 

Matthew — ^Well, I'm ready whenever your people are. 

Hammond — Thanks, I will remember. I believe I will in- 
terrupt the song if you don't mind. {He goes off tozvard song.) 

Matthew — Gook luck! Did you hear that? 

Elizabeth — I do hope she will have a little common sense, 
I do hope so. Wit enough to see her opportunity. I know she 
has, but, perhaps, I am wrong. With his name and its prestige, 
what can't I do to get with the right people, the really right 
people, at one clip? I've worked hard for it and I'm about 
tired out. (Bell rings off.) 

Matthew — Worse than the wash tub of old days, eh? 

Elizabeth — Matt Vanberg? (He looks at her). Shut up! 
You're — you're — (Butler enters zvith letters). Well, what is it 
(to Butler) Ferson? (taking letters — opening one). 

Matthew — What is it? (Servant has gone out.) 

Elizabeth — Another invitation to one of those devilish 
stupid dinners, the Lynn-Baileys — good enough people of their 
sort — but not the right ones. 

Matthew — Not of his inner-circle set — where you want to 
be. 

Elizabeth — iWhere I will be! 

Matthew — Did you hear how he evaded me on that con- 
solidation idea? They're putting up another big combination, 
and unless I get in, my httle railroads and my few millions may 
as well go to the scrap heap. I need him, but he don't need me, 
and he knows it. He wants Milly, and he isn't going to let me in 
till he gets her. He's too much of a gentleman to say so, but I 
can see it. 

Elizabeth — Is that all you can see? 

Matthew — No ! I'm stronger than he is, a stronger 
man. He has the position and the many millions — thrown at 
him on a piece of paper, called a will, and increased by sharp 
work and luck ; but I dragged mine out of nothing with my 
bare hands ; fought every inch of my way upward, and it has 
put me in training and fit to meet just such fellows and they 
will go down before me. Once let me in right, and I'll show 
'em what it is to pile up the millions — I'll give them a new mean- 
ing for the word success. Are you sure you'll land him? 

Elizabeth I was five weeks ago. 

Matthew — Then why not now? 

Elizabeth — If not it's your fault, or the same thing, your 
doctor's. 

Matthew — You bite that off suddenly. 

Elizabeth — A blind man could see it. 



24 

Matthew — That will never do; we must stop that httle 
game short off. 

Elizabeth — Don't stir things up — be careful. 

Matthew — Short off, I say! {Noise outside.) Hello! 

Abigail — {oiifsidc} — Never mind, never mind, I must see 
her this instant. 

Matthew — Abigail is making her forma! call at last. 
(Enter Abigail in excitement, followed by Butler, zvho stands in 
door and stares. ) 

Abigail — 1 cannot speak ! 1 must see you instantly both of 
you. I never dreamed of such a thing. (To Butler) — Here, 
you — stop listening and go away. I won't complain {to them), 
but I think it is dreadful. 

Elizabeth — What's the matter? 

Abigail — Your son ! 

Matthew — Charlie ? 

Abigail — He has haunted my house for weeks and now that 
I am thoroughly compromised — 

Matthew — You ? 

Elizabeth — My son? 

Abigail — He's gone — vanished. Has he been here? No, 
I see he hasn't. My life is wrecked. 

Matthew — Good Lord! (Drops into eliair ) 

Abigail — Gone and taken her with him. 

Matthew^ — State your predicament in plain English. 

Abigail — Billy— Clarice — my daughter ! 

Elizabeth — My son gone away with your daughter? (£.1;- 
presses intense disgust.) 

Abigail — My only child to do such a thing. (IVaving tel- 
egram frantieally.) Eloped! (Enter Clariee on Charlie's arm.) 

Charlie — Good morning, everybody. Pleasant morning, 
isn't it ? Everything so bright and cheery. vSo glad to see you. 
Aunt Abbie. Sort of expected you'd sur])rise us here. (A 
pause. ) 

Clarice — Did you get m\- little telegram, Mumsey? 

Abigail — And to think, my child — my CHILD — would 
treat me so. (Hands -cvire to Van.) Read that! 

Matthew — (reads) — "You are cordially invited to meet us 
this morning at eleven at the home of the groom. Charles Van- 
berg — Clarice." Is this true? (To Charlie.) 

Elizabeth — You have gotten married without a word to 
your father or myself ! 

Abigail — Stolen my child in spite of my express disap- 
proval! Oh, Clarice, how could vou ? 

Matthew — I had begun to hope I was not the father of 
a fool. Your conduct opens the subject for immediate reconsid- 
eration. 

Charlie — Oh, I don't know. A few people still marry now 
and then. T might as well look after her property as anyone 
else. 

Matthew — That Arizona alkali desert. 

Abigail — It's as good as anything you own, Matthew 
Vanberg. 

Matthew — I hope so. 

Charlie — Have you seen the Expert's report? 



25 

Matthew — What's that? 

Abigail — What Expert? Have you been nosing around my 
property ? 

Charlie — It came last night — as secretary of the company 
I opened it. 

Matthew — You had no business to do that. 

Charlie — Being a fool, I don't understand business. 

Matthew — What does he say? 

Charlie — Anywhere from two to five millions in sight ! 

Matthew — Jerusalem ! 

Charlie — No, Arizona. 

Abigail What did I tell you ; what did I tell you ? Who's 
crazy now, Matthew Vanberg? 

Charlie — The syndicate is up against a reorganization. 

Abigail — You marry my child for her fortune. 

Clarice — No. He told me all about it. Said he was born 
of poor, but honest parents, and would I have him now that I 
was rich? and I said I was his by right of discovery. 

Charlie — Didn't I warn you not to sell ? 

Abigail — I wasn't going to sell. 

Charlie — Don't you want the property developed? 

Abigail — Yes. 

Charlie — Well, I will develop it. 

Abigail — You'll do nothing of the sort. 

Matthew — Don't be hard, Abigail. Young hearts have 
their rights. 

Abigail — No good will come of it to either of you, marry- 
ing against your parents' wishes. 

Matthew — Why, you eloped yourself! 

Clarice — Oh ! Mumsey ! 

Abigail — I had to ; my father was a pig-headed man. 

Matthew — I can well believe it. You climbed down a 
ladder. 

Abigail — I didn't. That was long ago. 

Clarice — Oh, Mumsey, did you? I'm so glad. (Embraces 
him. ) 

Abigail — (angrily) — You have made a great mistake, with 
this fortune you might make a great social match, as others are 
trying to do — (glares at Elizabeth). As for you (to Charlie) 
you forget one thing — the fortune is not her's yet ; it is mine to 
do with as I please until she marries with my consent. With 
my consent. (To Clarice) — You have disobeyed your mother; 
you have gotten into this mess ; now get out the best you can — 
I won't help you, and I'll never give my consent, never. 

Elizabeth — It is her happiness you should consider. 

Abigail — I'll let her mother-in-law do that! If I can help 
it, not a penny will ever go to an old Vanberg, a young Vanberg 
or any other Vanberg — past, present or future — or future, just 
you remember that! (Starts to go.) 

Clarice — Mumsey, don't go ; we, we are not just exactly 
married. 

Abigail — But this telegraph? I'd — I'd like to know why 
you're not? 

Clarice — We started to, but I got scared, and would'nt 
until you knew ; and so — so — we — 



26 

Charlie — We — we — we couldn't get yon here any other 
way to talk it over. 

AuiGAiL Well, yon got me here and I'm not going to 
talk it over. 

Charlie — So — I thonght out this telegram scheme to bring 
you around. 

AniGAH. — \'ery brilliant of you ! iWell. I'm 'round — 

Charlie — Yes, I can see that ! I mean — 

Abigail — I say I'm around — all right — rather — I should 
tliink. Young lady, come home, instanter! 

Clarice — But won't you? 

Abigail— Yes, I won't. 

Clarice — Now, please ! 

Abigail— Come along, this instant. I'll attend to my end 
of this, Matthew Vanberg. {Going to door.) There is one thing 
in all this I will be eternally grateful for. It's your dazzling 
thought al)OUt that telegram — if I can forgive you for anything, 
it will be that ; come along. Miss. (Exits, foUoivcd by Eliza- 
beth.) 

Clarice — We'll be married anyhow. I thought you'd scold 
me. 

Matthew — When did I ever scold five millions (aside). 
Is this true? (To Charlie.) 

Charlie — Yes, sir. 

Matthew — And about the mines? 

Charlie — Every word. 

Matthew — And not married after all. Well, as a com- 
plete ass, you're an edition de luxe. 

Charlie — I thought! 

Matthew — Don't — (in deep disgust) — don't insult the 
word. 

Charlie — I've broken the ice! 

Matthew — Yes, and gone clean through up to your neck. 

Charlie — Well, she's been here. 

Matthew^SIic has been here. 

Charlie — I'll get the girl — I've got her now. I'll get these 
Arizona lands — a little stroke of finance. 

Matthew — Bosh ! 

Charlie — iWait and see. I'll marry her in a month — and 
go to Arizona on our honeymoon — 

Matthew — Good ! It's hot as blazes there now but you 
won't mind — look over matters on the ground. (E.rit Charlie 
and Matthezv.) 

(After c.vit of Vanberg and Charlie enter Hammond and 
Mildred.) 

Mildred — If you keep on, I'll begin to think I am nearer 
perfection than the facts warrant. 

Hammond — You are not near — you have arrived — that's 
my way at it — it's my character, if I want a thing, that's the best 
of its class, to my mind, I go after it and I always get it, too. 

Mildred — I do not feel as you do — I am not all you say, 
really; I know very little. (He makes gesture of dissent.) Lis- 
ten ! It distresses me to have you think I hold you lightly. 
But truly, you are mistaken — we are not quite in harmony. 



27 

Hammond — I'll tune myself to your liking then. 

Mildred — The only thing that can do that, I can not give — 

Hammond — You mean love. I don't see why. 

Mildred — Because — {shaking her head and smiling). 

Hammond — Seems to me I've heard of that reason some- 
where. 

Mildred — ^Well, you rvill reason with a woman. 

Hammond — I'll divide — I have enough love for two — {she 
shakes her head). You're the right thing. I want you. I knew 
it the first time I set eyes on you. I said then, "that girl is 
mine." Not quite the thing to say, but I said it — couldn't help 
it. 

Mildred — You're not an unskillful flatterer. 

Hammond — I said "there's my wife" — the ornament my 
name needs ; the one woman toward whom all my energies have 
been converging — created to stand at the head of the long line 
of fine women of my family. 

Mildred — But I am not that. I am of the new rich — 

Hammond- — Who isn't nowadays? Why, my father doubled 
his fortune in a life time of hard work. I've increased it twenty 
fold in fifteen years — we're all new rich. But there is a social 
caste, an inner circle — I was born in it. I've paid no attention 
to its value till lately ; been too busy. But now I see its uses — 
its necessity. I'm ready for it — been collecting art trinkets — 
new house going up — in fact, I'm coming out, and I want the 
cap-sheaf to be perfect, I want the perfect woman for all this 
to adorn. 

Mildred — If you mean all that for me, I'm not worth it. 

Hammond — Oh, I'm not making a display of values to catch 
you — you are above that, so am I — it's yourself I want. But 
we're all savages, to some extent, and I can't resist the instinct 
to dance before you in war-paint and feathers a little — you can 
stand it — the more we pile on the higher your head will lift 
above them all and I'll pile it on — that's what I want ; and be- 
sides, I am more than fond of you — I want you — I'd want you 
no matter where I found you — you understand me all along 
better than I've understood myself ; that's the woman of it — 
so I needn't say more. 

Mildred — I do feel complimented by what you have said 
to-day ; but, you see how it is — 

Hammond — You don't love me? I can't see why. 

Mildred — Nor I, but, really, I don't — 

Hammond — I'll make you — {fiercely, then checking himself 
suddenly) — ^I mean — love begets love {jocosely). 

Mildred — I like you — I like your {archly) masterful ways. 

Hammond — I'll be the gentlest sort of tyrant. 

Mildred — I admire your bravery — we women like brave 
men ; and you are candid and sincere ; but, well — I've told you — 

Hammond- — -You don't mean that you refuse me — Me — off 
hand- — positively — without weighing matters and thinking it 
over? 

Mildred — Yes. 

Hammond — This is a big question — you haven't sized it up. 

Mildred — Oh, yes — I have. 

Ham mond — Irrevocably ? 



• 28 

M iLDRED — I r revocabl y . 

Hammond — Are yon ([uite well this morning? 

Mildred — Qnite. 

Hammond — I positively won't hear yon. Come, take a 
spin — ^we'U talk it over better in the open. (She shakes her 
head.) I will win. You see I'm persistent — it's my character. 
Obstinacy, eh? Spoiled child, eh? 

Mildred — Determination ; that's one of your good points. 

Hammond — There, you see? I'm taking all the tricks. 
Wait, don't dismiss me — let me go to-day in hopes, as the poets 
say. If you would only come — we could soon settle it; come 
along. 

Mildred — I like you ; I like your boyishness — but I'm 
afraid — 

Hammond — Not of me? 

Mildred — No, the auto — 

Hammond — Safer than horses; just suits me. I like the 
speed — to drive ahead, override everything. Lifts me up — I can 
talk then — say something worth while. Come along, just to 
hear me talk. Once I get you in that car I'll win you sure. 
Come along. 

Mildred — No; give me a fighting chance — fair play, you 
know. 

Hammond — You shall have it; but I tell you now it's use- 
less. You will respect me enough to marry me when the time 
comes; until then, just keep on picking out my good points. 
Then you wont come? 

M I LDRED — N o — ( ligh tly ) . 

Hammond — You're not displeased with me? 
* Mildred — Not in the least. 

Hammond— Good, that counts two more. I'm running up 
an excellent score this morning ; better go before my luck turns. 
{She h^ugJis.) See me off from the window at any rate, v/on't 
you — 

Mildred — With all my heart. 

Hammond — Um ! that remark counts ten against me. 
(Shakes his finger at her). Well, I'll look for you — good bye. 

Mildred — Good-bye — (he goes out and she goes up to zvin- 
dow: Elicaheth enters — stands zvatching Mildred; then conies 
tozvard her. Mildred, up at windoiv at sound of auto's horn, 
wa-c'es her hand). 

Elizabeth — You are going out? 

Mildred — Yes. 

Elizabeth — Alone ? 

Mildred — No. (A pause.) 

Elizabeth — I see it is not with Eugene. 

Mildred — Eugene? Oh, Mr. Hammond. He seems quite 
devoted — to you. 

Elizabeth — Is that all you have to tell me? 

Mildred — It is useless, mother; I can not marry liiuL 

Elizabeth — Your conduct of the last four months has led 
us all to believe otherwise. 

Mildred — In his presence I don't feel human. I feel a 
thing of barter and sale. Besides, I am engaged to Doctor Stan- 
ley. 



29 

Elizabeth — Engaged? You are throwing away your pos- 
sibilities. 

Mildred — Oh, I understand you — we have wealth — we can 
buy anything — I am free to go where I wish — to reach out and 
take what I want of the world only to find my hands always 
empty. 

Elizabeth — These are new ideas from you. 

Mildred — You have made me a prisoner of money — a bird 
in a gilded cage. Oh, yes ! I have dainty food and drink — a 
nest of down ; but the door is closed and I am beating my life 
out against the bars. I want it open, open — I am shut in and I 
want the blue sky ; I want to be free. 

Elizabeth — Your father will never sanction it. You know 
so little of him — his life — his past. 

Mildred — I love him. I have known him since the world 
began. 

Elizabeth — You astonish me. (A ring outside.) 

Mildred — That is he — see him — see him — now — Doctor 
Stanley — Gilbert — (goes to door and calls). 

Elizabeth — I detest scenes — they frighten me ; I am not 
equal to them. 

Mildred — Do not go (to Elizabeth — to Gilbert — enter Gil- 
bert) — To-day one of the richest men in the world has asked 
me to marry him. It is needless to add my mother favors it, 
and wants me to give my answer. 

Elizabeth — Please be calm. 

Mildred — My answer is that I have promised to be your 
wife. 

Elizabeth — My daughter forces me into a strange and em- 
barrassing position. I am bewildered at this sudden overturn- 
ing of all our plans. 

Mildred — Plans in which I had no share. 

Elizabeth — I want her to be happy. 

Gilbert — So do I. 

Mildred — That's for me to decide. What am I for — why 
do I breathe if I am not to choose for myself. {Enter Matthew 
— has changed his clothes). 

Matthew — What's this you're choosing? A new hat or 
a pet pup? {Sees Gilbert.) Hello, Stanley! 

Gilbert — Good morning! You're well, I trust. 

Matthew — Oh, so, so — {indifferently) — what's the mat- 
ter? More excitement? 

Elizabeth — Dr. Stanley wishes to speak to you about Mil- 
dred. 

Matthew — Well, what is it? 

Gilbert — We wish to marry. 

Matthew — Hum, um ! 

Gilbert — I believe we can be happy together. 

Matthew — Our daughter has been accustomed to consid- 
erable freedom with money. Can you support her in the fash- 
ion that has become a habit with her? 

Elizabeth — Her own prospects were taken into account, 
perhaps. 

Mildred — Mother ! 



30 

Matthew — Yon are a hold man — or a selfish one. Chance 
threw under your professional care a girl to whom you imme- 
diately proceeded to make love. Let's be charitable to her intel- 
ligence and say she is impressionable — within two weeks you 
are an accepted lover, although, for a long time, her ambitions 
were fixed on another plane of life and another man. 

Mildred — I will never marry him. 

Matthew — ^You shall marry no one else with luy permis- 
sion. 

Mildred — Then I will marry without it. 

Elizabeth — Mildred, what are you saying? 

Matthew — Love in a garret ! 

Mildred — In a garret or in a palace — love — love. 

Matthew — I shall use every weapon I have to save my 
child from this mistake. 

Mildred — Father, you forget I am a woman. 

Elizabeth — Now, Mildred, wait. Matthew, remember, be 
calm — she's your daughter — high stnmg — like yoiu'self. If you 
are to take her from us. Doctor Stanley, against our dearest 
wish, we cannot help it ; but we do not want her to go in anger 
— I could not bear that. There is no need for that. (Hides her 
head on Matt's shoulder and eovertly pulls his slcez'e.) 

Matthew — You understand. Doctor Stanley, we don't ap- 
prove of you. I don't want you for a son-in-law, but I don't 
quarrel with my children ; if my daughter is foolish enough to 
throw herself away — 

Mildred — Father ! 

Matthew — There, there, now, don't fly ofi^ the hooks — I 
say it and I mean it. But I'm not going to use force to keep 
you here. Go with him — marrv him — be a doctor's wife — a 
country doctor, and with no practice at that — but no money of 
mine. On that I'm determined — I've pulled up to a standard 
for myself and my family, and am going forward, not back, over 
the ground again for anv sentimental or other reasons. 

Mildred — Then you do consent? 

Matthew- — No, I don't ; you simply drop out — that's all. 

Mildred — Ah, but he will succeed — you will be proud of 
him. We don't want anything but your love. I want to keep 
my father — 

Matthew — And I want to keep you, Milly — but you are 
making a mistake, and I don't want to stand by and see you 
do it — (zdfh feeling). 

Mildred — Rut put it out of your mind that I am your child 
and say : "Here is a woman standing before me — pleading to 
follow the impulse of her heart, and I won't oppose her, nor 
plant thorns in her path." That is all I want. You don't know 
how happy I have been since I've known Gill)ert — if you did 
you would be glad that I have found him. 

Gilbert — Do you think now that I can give her up? 
Elizabeth — That is hardly fair, doctor. 
Matthew — It isn't a square deal — we have no show. I — 
I — well, run along. You're jamming me into a corner — you 
two : the tightest corner I've been in for a long time — and I'm 
not ready for it. I want air — I want time — wasn't you going 
somewhere ? 



31 

Mildred — Yes, yes — (embracing him). Oh, I'm so happy. 

Matthew — iWell (taking her arms from his neck) — why 
don't you go? (She holds him at arm's length looking lovingly 
at him). No (shaking his head). Now, I won't say another 
word to you to-day. 

Mildred — (giving him a hug). Ah! (sighs rapturously — 
to Gilbert as she flits by). Wait — just a minute — (throivs him 
a kiss — Elisabeth has vuatched scene zvith intense interest — Mil- 
dred e.xits). 

Matthew — Now, what the devil am I to do? When the 
arms of my baby get around my neck, I'm done for (zvalking 
back and forth). I suppose you'll marry her. (Short zvalk.) 
But I don't want it. I can't have it. What the dickens she 
can see in you — 

Gilbert — I ask myself that every day. 

Matthew — These women — always in the way ; never fall- 
ing into line when most needed — and I must consent or play the 
old fool father and pitch her out. Well, I don't do either. 
You're not good enough for my daughter. 

Gilbert — I know it. 

Matthew — Look here — (goes to desk and writes a check) 
— you've never sent your bill for services — here, here is a check 
for fifty thousand dollars — take it and forget that a Vanberg 
ever crossed your path. 

Gilbert — (laying the check quietly dozvn) — I have been 
paid. 

Matthew — I'll make it a hundred thousand — two hundred 
thousand ; I'll foimd that hospital for the worthy poor you are 
so fond of. 

Gilbert — Your objection to me must be serious. 

Matthew — It is — do you accept? 

Gilbert — I cannot set a price vipon her love. 

Matthew — (raging) — Damn you— you shall not — we are 
not going to be balked and thrown down by a sentimental ro- 
mancing girl and a fortime-hunter. 

Gilbert — You are speaking of my afifianced wife and I 
must ask you to temper your remarks. 

Matthew — Temper hell. Since when must I stand cor- 
rected in my treatment of my child — you get out of my house 
before I throw you out. 

Gilbert — You are her father? 

Matthew — Never you mind what I am — you get out. 

Gilbert — I am not familiar with section-boss tactics. 

Matthew — That's what I was — a section boss. I'm section 
boss still. I'm section boss of this house. 

Elizabeth — Matthew. (Gilbert starts to go.) One mo- 
ment, doctor. 

Matthew — Section boss! (Rumaging in the desk.) It's 
all on account of that dartmed automobile. I'm off the hooks ; 
where are those tablets? 

Elizabeth — You must not excite yourself. It has brought 
on another attack. 

Matthew — I suppose so — I suppose so — just my infernal 
luck. 'When I get a doctor who understands my case, he goes 



?59 



and makes a fool of himself — just as 1 was beginning to eat 
with comfort. 

Gilbert — {offering him a tablet from his pocket) — Here! 

Matthew — Oh, go long with you {angry disgust). 

Gilbert — Why can't we talk this over? 

Matthew — What are we doing now ? 

Elizabeth — I am going to ask you to give up my daugh- 
ter because of your character and past career. 

Gilbert — A dead issue. It's what I am now that tells. 
My future. 

Matthew — Who said anything about your future? A man 
is the sum total of his past — and your past don't come up to the 
mark. 

Eli/ai!ET1I — Plave you told her of your recklessness in col- 
lege — your gambling for the money to keep up with your set 
since — not to mention worse incidents — I see you have not. Two 
week ago I saw you look at my daughter, and I began to watch 
you — I have watched you ever since. I have done nothing else 
but watch you. 

Gilbert — What are you going to do? 

Matthew — What are you going to do — that is the ques- 
tion? 

Elizabeth — Have you told her about this woman afifair, 
this Mrs. Frothingham? 

Gilbert — I have gambled some, if that is what you mean ; 
at. Mrs. Frothingham's house. 

Matthew — Bridge — {exclamation, half aside). 

Elizabeth — You are a silent partner in that establishment 
— you own some of that pretty furniture. 

Gilbert — Yes. 

Matthew — Oh! Aha! {Suppressed.) 

Gilbert — There is no woman affair, however. 

Elizabeth — jWho will believe that ? 

Gilbert — She will when I tell her. 

Elizabeth — You expect her to overlook it? Just like a 
man. But you have waited too long: your story is mine now 
to do with as I please. Suppose I print it. 

Gilbert — You mean to expose me if I take her away. 

Matthew — You bet! 

Elizabeth — If you permit her to go. 

Gilbert — Let me live down my mistakes ; they're not so 
bad — it looks worse than it really is. 

Elizabeth — For my daughter's sake, I refuse. Have you 
thought of yourself? What loss of reputation means? How 
many families will employ a physician hero of such a scandal? 

Gilbert — I sell my skill, not my private affairs. 

Elizabeth — Have you thought of the woman in this? 

Gilbert— I tell you there is no woman who can demand 
consideration. 

Elizabeth — Not even your mother? 

Gilbert — She believes me when I say it's over forever. 
T have injured no one — not even the other woman. I am free 
to love your daughter. 

Matthew — But not to marry her. 

Gilbert — Free to marry her. 



33 

Matthew — Oh, yes. You'll do the repentant sinner act. 
1 know what that will mean, pity, tears, bouquets, gush ; you'll 
win sure — she'll forgive you and go down in disgrace with you. 

Elizabeth — {she turns up as butler enters and speaks to 
her in undertone). Request her to step in. Send Mr. Charles 
here at once. (Butler exits.) 

Matthew — Who is it? 

Elizabeth — I told you I have been investigating Dr. Stan- 
ley. Good morning, Mrs. Frothingham. (Enter Mrs. Fro thing- 
ham, a pretty woman of fashion of about thirty-five years, ele- 
gantly dressed, gentle of voice and manner, zvith a trick of drop- 
ping corner of her mouth as she talks— Gilbert starts, and shozvs 
he knozvs her.) 

Matthew — (aside) — Ah! urn! u-u-m — 

Elizabeth — So kind of you to come — my husband, Air. 
Vanberg. 

Mrs. Frothingham — Good morning — rather warm, is it 
not ? 

Matthew — Turning sultry. 

Elizabeth — You have met Dr. Stanley, I believe? 

Mrs. Frothingham — Yes, we have met. 

Elizabeth — Won't you be seated — can I get you anything? 

Mrs. Frothingham — Nothing, thank you. 

Elizabeth — You are very kind to respond to my little note 
so promptly. 

Mrs. Frothingham — I should have come yesterday but 
was prevented. You asked a personal interview (looks at 
Matthezv and Gilbert questioningly). Ah, do they know? 

Elizabeth- — Mrs. Frothingham has some papers I wish to 
purchase. 

Matthew — Letters ? 

Mrs. Frothingham — Notes. 

Matthew — Not mine. I don't sign notes any more — for 
women. 

Mrs. Frothingham — Not yours. 

Elizabeth — Charles. 

Mrs. Frothingham — I am sorry you have been misin- 
formed. 

Elizabeth — Possibly. 

Mrs. Frothingham — I have no such papers. 

Elizabeth — I am aware of that, they came into my posses- 
sion to-day. 

Mrs Frothingham — Mrs. Vanberg — how did you get 
them ? 

Elizabeth — (handing notes to Matthezv) — Through a 
friend ; you don't know — in the course of business. (Enter 
Charles. ) 

Charlie — You want to see me? 

Matthew — Yes ; this is Mrs. Frothingham — my son — 
(they bozv). Did you make these notes? 

Charlie — Yes. but I hardly expected them to turn up here. 

Mrs. Frothingham — (to Charlie) — Your mother wrote it 
was your wish that I bring them here. I am sorry that I was 
misinformed — (look at Elisabeth). 

Matthew — How much did you sign them for? 



84 

Charlie — I don't exactly recollect. 

Matthew — Uni-m — loaded. 

Charlie — Not completely. 

Matthew — Do yon know for how mnch? 

Charlie — A thousand dollars each. 

Matthew — Yon mean four thousand each ? 

Charlie — No, one. I lost two thousand, quit, and gave 
these two notes. 

Matthew — Card losses? 

Charlie — Bridge. 

Matthew — Um-m ! Card sharp! These notes say four 
•thousand dollars each. {To Frothinghaiii) — It is eight, isn't it? 

Mrs. Fkothingham — (coiifiiscdly) — 1 helieve so — I under- 
stood they called for eight thousand. 

Matthew — {examining the notes) — These notes are pay- 
able to Gilbert Stanley and are endorsed on the back {turning 
notes over and reading) — Gilbert Stanley and Alice Frothing- 
ham. 

Charlie — But it isn't eight thousand ; it's two, I tell you. 

Matthew — ^What do you say to that, Stanley? 

Gilbert — I have nothing to say. 

Matthew — Um-m! You're sensible. {Picks up small sun 
glass and examines notes). Your memory is good. These notes 
are for one thousand each and have been raised to four — see? 

Charlie — But that's forgery. 

Matthew — I know it. {Mrs. Frothingham sinks into a 
chair.) 

Charlie — If it's just the same, sir, I'd rather you turned 
them over to me. 

Matthew — It isn't the same. ' 

Charlie — I rather object, sir — they're mine. 

Matthew — Your mother needs them at present. 

Mrs. Frothingham — iWhat are you going to do? I don't 
understand. 

Charlie — You have it in for Stanley. 

Mrs. Frothingham — You do not like Dr. Stanley — but, 
my dear Mr. Vanberg, he is quite guiltless, I assure you. If 
there is anyone guilty it is I. He knows nothing about the 
change in the notes. You must not use them to bring trouble 
on him — you must not. I changed them. 

Matthew — My dear madam, I have my doubts. 

Mrs. Frothingham — Ah, but I did. 

Matthew — What for? 

Mrs. Frothingham- — I needed that sum — for a friend. 

Gilbert — To lend to me. 

Matthew — Worse and worse. 

Mrs. Frothingham — But he has repaid me : that is our 
affair. 

Matthew — But this is ours, my dear madam. 

Charlie — You are dragging me in ; my name is on those 
notes. I prefer to settle this matter myself. I don't want you 
to pay my debts of that sort. It's not over-complimentary to 
you. Stanley, that you let them get out of your hands. 

Gilbert — You are right, I never should. I never should 



35 

have done many things that I have done — one mistake follows 
another. I did go for them as I told you; I was unable to see 
her. They got into the hands of some one, and landed here. 

Charlie — It's deuced unpleasant for me. 

Matthew — Oh never you mind the unpleasantness. I know 
you play cards — everybody takes a swing at bridge nowadays, 
or tries to. I want you to be in the swim, but I don't want 
Vanberg notes floating around. 

Charlie — But I only lost two thousand, I tell you. 

Matthew — Don't let that worry you. You've done many a 
fool thing, but making those notes was a stroke of genius. 

Charlie — I don't like your buying my paper. 

Matthew — Do you want Stanley for a brother-in-law ? 

Charlie — I don't believe I do. 

Matthew — No more do I ; but it's your mother's affair. 
So let's vamoose. There's your artillery, Betsy. I say, Stan- 
ley, do you still think you're worthy my daughter. You made 
a mistake in refusing my offer to found that hospital for the 
worthy poor. Come along, Charlie — we're in the way here. He 
seems pretty strong with the women. I ' want you to tell me 
more about the expert's report on those Arizona lands. 

(Exeunt Matthezv and Charlie.) 

Mrs. Frothingham — You sent for me for this? 

Elizabeth — You forget, you were to come yesterday. 

Mrs. Frothingham — This is why you wanted those notes 
— why your letter held that covert threat. 

Elizabeth — Five weeks ago my daughter met with an 
accident — she was taken to the house of Doctor Stanley's mother 
— he was there. 

Mrs. Frothingham — Well? 

Elizabeth — Doctor Stanley has not been to see you for 
five weeks. 

Mrs. Frothingham — Because of your daughter ! 

Elizabeth — Do you want him to marry her? Do you? 

Mrs. Frothingham — (Sinks into a chair with an exclama- 
tion) — Ah ! 

Elizabeth — I see you do not. Let me be your friend. 

Mrs. Frothingham — You are trying to break their friend- 
ship. Perhaps he loves her (glances at Gilbert zvho has gone up 
to windoiv). He does love her — I feel it. 

Elizabeth — A passing infatuation. I have other plans for 
my daughter. You must help me. 

Mrs. Frothingham — You are playing with a woman's 
heart. You know I can not give him up. 

Elizabeth — Why do so? We must help each other. She 
wants to marry him. 

Mrs. Frothingham — You are playing with their hearts as 
well as mine. He loved me before. 

Elizabeth — He will again if they separate, li 1 make 
use of my information. 

Mrs. Frothingham — You will involve me in a public scan- 
dal ? I can not endure it — I will kill myself rather. What right 
have you to involve me? 



36 

Elizabeth- — T need you. I don't care who croes down in 
my struggle. 

Mrs. Frothingham — You have caught nie on the verge 
of the social precipice. It needs but one blow to hurl me over 
into the abyss. 

Elizabeth — Do you want me to do it? You want him to 
marry you. If I thought he would, there is nothing I would 
not do for you — there is nothing I would not compel you to do. 

Mrs. Frothingham — You frighten me. 

Elizabeth — I open the way for you to win him for your- 
self. Doctor Stanley, what have you to propose? 

GiLBERT^ — {coming dozvn) — Nothing; I am a man of clay 
in your hands — to mould as you choose. 

Elizabeth — We fully understand what it is necessary to 
do. 

Gilbert — I am to break with her? 

Elizabeth — Finally — at once — to-day. 

Gilbert — To-day ? 

Elizabeth — Nothing can be gained by delay. 

Gilbert — I can't do it. She seems so happy. I can't to- 
day. 

Mrs. Frothingham — Gilbert — forgive me — I never thought 
— never meant — 

Gilbert — Don't, please. It is not you that needs forgive- 
ness. She would forgive me — but I can not ask it of her. I 
am unfit to look upon her again. I will go now, and never see 
her again. {Starts to go.) 

Elizabeth — {stopping Jiini) — I don't want you to run 
away — that will do no good. She will follow you. You must 
see her — tell her, so that she will know, once for all, that every- 
thing is over between you. You are to receive these notes {to 
Mrs. Frothingham ) the day my daughter is married. 

Gilbert — How am I to tell her? 

Elizabeth — That is your task {goes and touches hell — But- 
ler appears). Mrs. Frothingham's carriage. I think it best for 
my daughter not to meet you. {Butler e.vits.) 

Mrs. Frothingham — {crosses to L — Yes. Allow me — one 
word with him. 

Elizabeth — Be brief, then. 

Gilbert — What am I to say to her? 

Elizabeth- — You're not to say anything about these notes, 
or anything of what has passed between us. You are to break 
with her — finally — to-day. Anyway you choose. Say you're 
what her father called you, a fortune hunter ; that you don't 
want her without her money. 

Gilbert — If I refuse to tell her these lies? 

Elizabeth — This woman will be arrested — {flutters notes). 
T do not see how you can. 

Gilbert — How am I to tell her? 

{Elizabeth exits.) 

Mrs. Frothingham — Oh, Gilbert, what have I done? 
Gilbert — They dragged you into this — 
Mrs. Frothingham — She found out somehow about those 
notes and sent for me — she wrote it was for her son. 



37 

Gilbert — You sold them and they came to her hands. How ? 

Mrs. Frothingham — I don't know. 

Gilbert- — To whom did you sell them? 

Mrs. Frothingham — To — oh, some money lender — what 
difference does that make? 

Gilbert — Yes, yes, of course. I have not been to see you 
for many reasons. {She shakes her head in a deprecating zvay.) 
You see, why — I had to pull up — I could not go on — 

Mrs. Frothingham — I understand. 

Gilbert — I had made up my mind before — before that ac- 
cident to her. There was talk floating around — involving us 
more and more ; and I had to drop it all — suddenly — 

Mrs. Frothingham — Without a word to me? 

Gilbert — It is not a nice thing to do, or an easy one to 
speak about ; but there are times when the only possible thing 
i? to be roughly honest. 

Mrs. Frothingham — Go on — you have given me five long 
weeks of silence to prepare for this moment. 

Gilbert — You know I do not want to cause you pain — 

Mrs. Frothingham — I think I understand vour character 
a little. 

Gilbert — Do you think there is enough depth in me for 
love to find a shelter in? 

Mrs. Frothingham — That is why — I wanted you — 

Gilbert — Then I tell you I am in its clutches, and it will 
never let me go. 

Mrs. Frothingham — And it is not for me? 

Gilbert — This is no time for mincing words. It is not for 
you. 

Mrs. Frothingham — Then what is to become of me? 

Gilbert — I did not think you cared so much. 

Mrs. Frothingham — Not care so much ! But what does it 
matter — women can live without love — they are doing it every 
day ; but they can not live without loving. 

Gilbert — Alice — God knows. I didn't dream of this — you 
are making it a very hard day for me — 

Mrs. Frothingham— I have felt all along that I was only 
an episode in your life. I never meant to let it become a really 
serious thing- — but you see how it is. 

Gilbert — I understand. How easy it is to be a rascal. 

Mrs. Frothingham — I will not let you say that. 

Gilbert — Oh, don't gloss me over with forgiveness. I'd 
like to know what right a man has to pitch blindly on — to let 
a woman love him and then when he has nothing to give in re- 
turn, howl out his remorse after it is too late. Yet that's about 
all we ever do. 

Mrs. Frothingham — I think I understand you — you are 
not thinking of me even now. You think you are but you are 
battling with yourself — to win or lose her. 

Gilbert — That is God's truth. 

Mrs. Frothingham — Then, why not go to her? 

Gilbert — You tell me that! 

Mrs. Frothingham — Yes ; I am strong enough for that. 

Gilbert — Because you know I love her. 



38 

Mrs. Frothingham — Because I love you. 

Gilbert — Alice (burst of sclf-coiideiiiiiatioii) — Others make 
sacrifices but I can only whine and take all — everything that is 
offered, as a matter of course. You put yourself in 
the peril of the law for me. You even now. tell- 
ing me you love me. urge me to go to another woman and for 
that love — and I, I, am afraid to tell her what I am — what I 
have done. I have no courage, no fairness, to free her from 
such a creature as I am, simply because I say I love her. I 
haven't been so bad- — it didn't seem so bad ; but step by step, I 
have gone down till it seems there is no degradation further ex- 
cept to drag a pure girl to my level, and. to do so, by playing on 
the divine impulse of her innocent love. Oh, yes ; I'll do it — I am 
capable of it — I am capable of anything. 

Mrs. Frothingham — Stop ! 

Gilbert — What am I to do? 

Mrs. Frothingham- — Hush ! Don't speak so, don't — don't 
think of me in this. I am about done for already. You are to 
stay here — for her. You are to forget me — and I am to go 
away — quietly out of your life, as quietly as I came into it. 

Gilbert — And you are willing to let me go — for my happi- 
ness. 

Mrs. Frothingham — Good-bye. 

Gilbert — Why don't you tell me you won't give me up, 
no matter what comes of it for either of us. Why don't you tell 
mic? 

Mrs. Frothingham — Because you can't make me happy 
after my changing those notes — getting that money. 

Gilbert — You did it for me — I used it. 

Mrs. Frothingh.a.m — You did not know what was done — 
but knowing now, you can have no respect for me. 

(iILBert — Good God, Alice! You are putting words iiUo 
my mouth — a hot iron into my brain. There is no way out of it. 
They've got us. If they arrest you the disgrace falls on all of 
us. She'd share it. She'd stand by me, Init I won't let her — 
Fm man enough for that. How — How? 

(Mildred heard coming.) 

Mrs. Frothingham — Goodbye! (Frofliingham c.vifs ivith 
Iialf-hidden shozv of triumph ) 

(Gilbert has sunk dozvn and is holding his head in his hands — 
staring before him — he sits there for a moment — then rises 
in a fury — takes his hat and starts blindly after her and is 
met by Mildred, ivho enters and stands facing him.) 

Gilbert — I must speak to you. (Lo7V intensity.) 

Mildred — You are to go on speaking to me all" the rest of 
my clays. 

Gilbert — No, I mean now, at once. Something has hap- 
pened. 

Mildred — Since I left the room? 

Gilbert — Yes— no — before — before that. 

AIildred — Before you met me? 

Gilbert — Yes. before that. 

IMiLDRED — I do not care for what was before that. 



39 

Gilbert — I have tried to tell you and did not have the 
courage. I have been a coward — every man is a coward some- 
times. 

Mildred — So is every woman. You see, I am going to 
stand by your side in everything. 

Gilbert- — I am taking you from your home — (in a desper- 
ate way as though he didn't knozv zvhat to say). 

Mildred — You are taking me to my home and I am ready. 

Gilbert — You have not even asked me where we are to go. 

Mildred — I have not even thought of it. We are to go 
together. 

Gilbert — Oh, God! What am I to do? 

Mildred — My dear love ! What is it ? You need not fear 
for me— I am not afraid. 

Gilbert — It is not that! 

Mildred — Have I done anything ? 

Gilbert — You? Oh, no. Not you. 

Mildred — You are suffering and I — let me help you. Let 
me help you by knowing what it is. I can bear it. It is my turn 
now. Yes, it is. Remember how good you were to me. 

Gilbert — You do not know how poor we are. 

Mildred — I do not care for that — I know something bet- 
ter. I know how rich we are. 

Gilbert — Do you think I would have the courage to give 
you up for your own sake? 

Mildred — Not for my sake — you could not. 

Gilbert — Do you think I love you enough for that? 

Mildred — I do not want that love — I want the love that 
would keep me in spite of myself. 

Gilbert — But if in my reckless life I had done something 
that called for punishment — even prison. 

Mildred — I would wait for you at the gate. 

Gilbert — You would not give me up? 

Mildred — I will not give you up, if you only love me. That 
is all I ask. But you are trying me. You have done nothing. 
A prison has no perils for you. 

Gilbert — No — no — I only wish it had. 

Mildred — Don't tell me that anything can separate us now. 
Tell me of poverty and pain and everything terrible, but don't 
tell me that. 

Gilbert — What I have to tell I must tell. 

Mildred — No you must not — I do not want to hear it. 

Gilbert — I have talked to you of ideals and higher mo- 
tives of life like a hypocritical coward, while in my heart I was 
thinking and planning something entirely different — the ideal 
that fills the air around us all, and is dragging us we don't 
know where. It all comes back to that — to money. It has been 
so ever since I went away to school— I heard little else even 
there — money, money— always the need of money — never 
enough. As soon as I could I began drawing on my capital — I 
was bound to have what money only could buy — I gambled — I 
schemed in every way to keep in. The money demon had me 
in his clutches, and twisted me from every better thing. I lied 
to my mother and deceived her — robbed her — all for money. It 



40 

has blighted my nature and made me incapable of seeing any- 
thing beyond it. I have struggled to hold my place in the world 
without it long enough. How I hate it and how I love it. 

Mildred — (zvlw has listened zvith grozviiig terror) — I do 
not believe you. 

Gilbert — When I carried you into my house, and knew 
who you were — I saw ni}' chance. 

Mildred — I do not believe you. 

Gilbert — I wanted a fortune — I would do anything for a 
fortune. 

Mildred — I do not believe a word you say. There is some- 
thing else you dare not tell me. What is it? 

Gilbert — I can not marry you. In this life I have lived 
there is a woman. 

Mildred — Another woman, with whom you are entangled? 
I've heard of such things; they seem a part of men's experience 
— men of the world. She is of your past — I do not care for that 
— there is no such thing — that is all forgotten. When you met 
me your soul lifted you above all that. It has been chas- 
tened in a holier flame. That is what love means — that is why it 
is everything. It is }ou and I, here, now, you and I. This is 
all I care for. Tell me — take me in your arms and tell me this 
is so. T'lat your love for me now is the only vital thing on earth 
to you. 

Gilbert — It would do no good — you would discover the 
truth sooner or later. 

Mildred — You mean money — my money? That is why you 
came to me — ni}' money ! You do not love me. You love that 
other. Do you — do you — love her? Yes, you do — I see it — 
you do — and I have told you all my soul. (The shame of hurt 
pride crushes her.) Oh! — Oh! oh! The bitter shame of it. 
Leave me. In God's name leave me — before I die in your sight. 
{Stands ill attitude of intense resentment at the shame heaped 
on her — as Gilbert staggers out.) 

Mildred — Mother — you are there? 

Elizabeth — (appears on raised steps) — Yes. 

Mildred — Tell father I am not going to marry Gilbert 
Stanley ! 

Curtain. 



41 



ACT III. 

TABLEAU I. 

CHURCH SCENE. 

(At Rise, The final strains of the Wedding March from 
Lohengrin, harp or organ are heard. They cease during first 
stages of crowds' exchanges ; then a brief silence in Church, and 
then the indistinct intoning of the Episcopal Marriage Service — 
heard during lulls in murmur of the crowd outside, on stage. 
The scene is the front, at the corner of a street, of a small vine- 
covered fashionable Church in New York. Stage set not deeper 
than "2." Church in upper right hand corner set to show 
obliquely from audience — a lamp-post at corner dozun front — 
at edge of curb corner of tzvo intersecting streets. Church sur- 
rounded or fenced in by iron fence — steps and approach to 
Church door lead dozvn to "i" at "RC ; this is canopied. Back 
of canopy appear the zvalls and zvindozvs of church — a large set 
tree — with ivide spreading branches overhanging the sidewalk 
and street, that lead up stage — tree is backed by brick ivail of 
tlic building that adjoins the church, and a viezv of the open 
street in perspective that extends dozvn the street, in panoramic 
effect, at center and left of stage — filled zvith mob of zvomcn — 
and carried out on the drop. At extreme side of stage, on the 
left, is shozvn opposite curb zvith mob packed to and off stage. 
The center and left front open as though shozving the middle of 
the street.) 

{The general viczv is the South Church at corner of Thirty- 
eighth and Madison Ave , as seen from a point near the middle 
of the tzvo streets. Thirty-eighth leading off right and the avenue 
extending up stage — looking south.) 

{The stage is completely filled zvith a mob of struggling 
and pushing and chattering women, fashionably dressed, expos- 
tidating zvith each other, and a squad of policemen, who are try- 
ing to keep them in order and back from the church door, zvhich 
they are all seeking to enter or look into here and there one 
jumps into the air, to get a better view and, as curtain goes up, 
the officers are hustling some of them back by the arms and 
tzvo are being pushed, protesting, dozvn the church steps and out 
from the opening of the canopy, zvith hats azvry, and in general 
disorder ; as the scene proceeds one woman tries to crawl under 
the canopy ; gets half way under, and is pulled out by the heels, 
and raised upright and hustled into the crozvd — the zvhole scene 
continuously zvorked up and on constant move, szvaying to and 
fro in excited jabberings, protests, and hysterical screechings. 
The idea to produce, as nearly as possible, a mob of curiosity- 
mad zvomcn, bound to see the zvedding, overriding all bounds 
of propriety and decency, in a cra.'^y determination to gratify a 
morbid cracc to see and hear.) 

{Dozvn at "RC." A lamp-post or boxed tree — in shelter of 
zvhich most of the dialogue betzveen the principal characters 
takes place; this tree, or post, and the canopy and iron fence 



42 

siirroiiiiciiiig flic cJiurch, serve to keef^ the mob, at arm's length, 
jroiii them.) 

At Rise: 

Captain of Police — Keep that line there. 

First Officer — Keep that Hne there. Get hack there. 

Captain- — ^^Why don't ye move them liack ? Keep them wo- 
men l)ack. [Grabbing Second Ofhccr by arm and shaki>ig him 
(IS he zcoiild an iinrnly boy, and pushing him into place toivard 
R., to great delight of the croivd, ivho laugh and jeer.) 

Second Officer — Good Hivins, Captin, I'm not a Hercules. 
{Captain moves about, pushing women back.) 

First Woman (ai R.) — Come now, all I want is just one 
little peek. Oh, pie-ease — 

Second Officer — Can't do it, mum. Agin the Captain's 
orders. 

Second Woman — Oh, fiddle {ambulance going off L.) 

First Officer (L) — There's the ambulance — some one 
hrirt over there. It'll be one of you'se next. 

Third Woman (L) — I don't care. 

Fourth Woman — I came here to see, and I'm going to see, 
or die. 

Fifth Woman — {R) — Oh, come, let us in; just a second. 

Second Officer — {R) — Are ye invited guests? 

Chorus of Voices — Yes — I am — yes — me — me — yes — 

Second Officer — iWhere's yer card, de invitashun? 

Chorus — Lost — home — forgot it — lost^ — lost. 

Second Officer — That's what would happen to me job if 1 
let yees in. 

Sixth Woman — (zvhispers to him) — Hey? What that 
{same business) — I can't do it — (sliakes head). 

Sixth Woman — Just a second — 

Second Offfcer — Not a minute. 

Fifth Woman — I only want one peep. 

Second Officer — Ye'll hev to stand back. 

Fifth Woman — (bristling tip) — Don't you touch me, sir. 

First Officer — (L) — Ye have to keep the way clear, 
ladies. {To guests pushing their zvay in from L) — Pass along, 
all right — stand back there — {to crozvd). 

{Burly citizen — nicely dressed — starts to cross roped walk.) 

First Officer — We can't cross here. 

Citizen — ^Why not? Isn't this a public street? 

First Officer — Ye can't cross, I say. 

Citizen — The Hell I can't— I'm crossing, ain't I? 

First Officer — It's against orders. Go back. 

Citizen — Whose orders? iWhat orders? These high- 
toned snobs and their wedding nonsense? I live in this street — 
I've been going up and down this walk for twenty-five years 
at this hour every day — to my dinner; and I'm going now. 
And I'm not going to be stopped for any Plutocratic Nob or his 
police. Ypu get out of my way — I'm going through. {Officer 
turns back and he goes through and off: crowd cheers.) 



43 

Crowd Orator. 

(A ivild, long-haired, rather shabby man — gets up on pe- 
destal and begins to harangtie the eroivd, who jeer and good- 
naturedly scoff his attempts at a speech.) 

Is this a free country or not ? 

{Jeers and cries of "Yes," "no" — "get down.") 

Where even the streets are taken away from the people by 
the miUionaires? 

{More jeers and laughs.) 

I tell you — 

{Same interruptions.) 

I demand to be heard. 

{Cries of "Keep still"- — "more noise" — laughs.) 

The People have some rights — I speak for the People — 
{Shouts and more laughter — cries of "Keep still," etc.) 

Now is the time to strike ! 

{Officers pull him dozvn and club him — take out on him as 
they hustle him off — ivhat they couldn't take out of the Burly 
citizen.) 

First Officer — {to zvonian who crowds forzvard) — Stand 
back — you don't live here. 

Second (Woman — You're real mean. 

Third Woman — I'll report you. 

First Officer — Ye heard the Captin's orders? 

Fifth Woman — {R) — I want to see-e-e. 

Second Officer — There's nothin' to see. Ye can't look a 
hole through a church door; ye know that. 

Fifth Woman — I can peek through the keyhole, can't I? 

{Croivd sivays forzvard— almost pushing him off his feet ) 
{Women get officer in their embraces — hug him.) 

Second Officer — Hold on — yer crushin' the life out o' 
me — 

Sixth Woman — They're pushing behind. 

First Woman — We are not. 

Fourth Woman — You are, too. 

Second Woman — Are not. 

Fourth Woman — You are. 

Second Officer — Now, then, ladies — don't use voi-a-lance. 
Remember, ladies, ye're ladies — remember that now. 

Fifth Woman — Only a second. 

Second Officer — Ye'll hev to stand back — {pushing 
against line, vainly). 

Sixth Woman — How can I ? 

Second Officer — Ye'll hev to. 

Fifth Woman — I pity your wife. 

Second Officer — Hev' none — glory be. 

Fifth Woman — Hope you never will have. 



44 

Second Oi<ficer — Never, after this. 
Fifth Woman — Lucky for her. 
Second Officer — Me, too, mum. 

(Stops woman, very flashily dressed, ivlw pushes and shoz'es 
to front — her hat janiined over one eye.) 

Stand back, mum. 

Woman — {slightly intoxicated)—! know "the bride! 

Second Officer — Indeed! (All laugh.) 

Woman — She's a particular friend of a particular friend 
of mine. 

Second Officer — She has a large acquaintance to-day, 
mum; stand back — (pushing her into crozvd). 

(Gilbert comes on from- L — and Frothinghain reaches out 
from crozi^d L, and catches his arm — at L down.) 

Frothingham — Gilbert, what are you doing here? 

Gilbert — On duty — (he crosses tozvard R — ^V;^' follozving 
— during the follozving zvork their zvay to shelter of tree RC). 

P^rotiiingiiam — With that ambulance — (he nods). 

Gilbert — An ambulance surgeon — I had to go to work. 

Frothingham^ — You keep away from me — 

Gilbert — iWork to do, and a little trouble and sorrow. 

Frothingham — I heard. You lost your mother — Fm so 
sorry — 

Gilbert — Thank you. 

Frothingham — I wanted you — so much — I could help you 
— why not let me? 

Gilbert — I think you know why — 

Frothingham — Yes — I know — but I don't give up so eas- 
ily. 

Gilbert — There are times when we have to. 

I'^rothingham — Yes, I know. You're standing here like the 
man in Locksley Hall. She is there. Your Amy — shallow 
hearted, before that altar, with another man, swearing before 
God, to love and cherish him — (a note of vicious triumph in 
tone, but not venomous.). 

Gilbert — It doesn't matter. 

Frothingham — She never loved you. 

Gilbert — Yes, once. 

Frothingham — A dead love. 

Gilbert — I am its assassin. 

Frothingham — She is the assassin of your love for me — 

Gilbert — We came to an understanding about that long 
ago, didn't we? 

Frothingham — But I haven't seen you for so long — vou 
would care for me — you couldn't help it — but for her — 

Gilbert — You're not yourself to-day. 

Frothingham — ^You think I've been drinking — well T do — 
a little — who don't? (He turns azvay.) 

Is that why you cut me? 

Gilbert — My work takes my time — 

Frothingham — Why shouldn't I drink? Haven't I cause? 
It's your fault— no, no ; f don't mean that. I can stop it — give 



45 

me a chance to show you — (Gilbert shozvs it all a closed inci- 
dent) — But no, you won't — you hate me. 

Gilbert — No. 

Frothingham — But you don't care for me; it's the same 
thing. 

Gilbert — Our story is out. 

Frothingham — Out ? 

Gilbert — (shozving paper) — Yes. 

Frothingham — They don't dare — yes— (reads at inter- 
vals)- — the flat — the cards — everything, but out names; they'll 
come next — (furious — strikes paper in rage) — why do they do 
it? After their promises ; why do they do it? What's the name? 
(Looks at paper.) I see — ^his paper — he owns it. (Shakes 
paper at church door.) 

Gilbert — You don't mean — 

Frothingham — He — the man standing there — at her side 
"in your place." 

Gilbert — Where are those notes? 

Frothingham- — I don't know — they are holding them back 
— they were promised to me to-day before this wedding. Mrs. 
Vanberg refuses to see me. That's why I'm here, shut out, 
like yourself, (hattghs recklessly.) 

Gilbert — They may drag us into a court. 

Frothingham — (not heeding — examining paper) — Do you 
see this? A full description of my house, half true, half false. 
They mention no names, but any one may guess, and they will 
— that will come. They are after us — he never will stop till he 
has finished me, in every way. This will be followed by full 
details- — you know what that means. Fm socially done for — 
dead. They will arrest me for changing those notes — for 
you a disgraceful publicity and for me- — the river — 

Gilbert — Come, you must get away from here. 

Frothingham — I won't stand it — Fll do something. She 
has kept me on the rack all this time over them. It's dragging 
the very life out of me. If this is so (striking paper), they will 
do anything- — so will he — to crush me. 

Gilbert — He is in this, then? 

Frothingham — He's only this scheming mother's tool. 
She will get me those notes now or I'll add to this day's sensa- 
tions ; I'll drag another name into this affair. (Looks menacing- 
ly at church.) 

Gilbert^ — Not her, no ; you will not. 

Frothingham — I will. 

Gilbert — You will tell her nothing. 

Frothingham — Oh, she — she — her feelings must be spared 
— her heart must not throb and beat the night out ; not even the 
crumpled rose leaf of a sorrow for her — never mind the others. 
(Sounds of Mendelssohn's wedding march from church.) It's 
done — she is his wife— his wife. (Gleams triumph at Gilbert.) 

Gilbert — Are you satisfied, now? 

Frothingham — Shall we stay to offer our congratulations ; 
wish her happiness? 

Gilbert — T do wish it. 

Frothingham — You are like every man. You pick out 



46 

a woman, everything for her — a l^east of selfishness for every one 
else. 

GiLBERT-^Come — this is no place for either of us — 

(During foregoing scene crazed busy pushing and jostling to 
get nearer church door.) 

Women in Crowd — They're coming out; there they are; 
let me see; stop — you're crushing me. {Etc. ad lib.) 

(As doors of church open and bride and groom appear, the 
seuii-calni that has marked the preceding scene is ended, and a 
wild rout and struggle begins to get in path of bridal couple — 
women jump up to see on all sides, and push and sway the mass 
in an endeavor to see and get nearer — be careful not to intro- 
duce loiif comedy of any sort into mob's action here.) 

Frothingham — (Crowding zvUdly up to door gets in path 
at side of Mildred, as she reaches top of lozv church steps at 
opening in the street canopy) — I must speak to you — 

Mildred — (az'oiding her) — Not now, please! (She is pale 
and looks zvorn out.) 

Frothingham — I've been kept away — 

A-IiLDRED — Another time. 

Frothingham — Your mother knows. 

Mildred — ^Who is she? (To mother who is behind her.) 

Elizabeth — I don't know. 

Frothingham — Yes, you do ; you know well enough what 
I want. You're betraying me — all of you. You haven't kept 
your word — Fll trust you no more — I go with you now. You 
give me what I \vant or Fll tell her. (Tliis to ElizabetJi as 
coterie moves down steps to C. ) 

Hammoni:) — What's all this? 

(Frothingham throzvs paper at him. it falls) — Here, officer, 
can't you help us? 

(Crozvd separates Mildred and Hammond as he turns to 
speak — then, as Frothingham catches Jier arm, they are propelled 
down stage to RC, and croivd intervenes and separates them 
from Hammond and all the rest, who push to get her during 
follozving bit.) 

Mildred — What do you want with me? 

Frothingham — You must save me or Fll drag you down. 
(Crozvd crushes her.) I'll drag you all down. Help — they are 
crushing me. Gilbert, Gilbert, help me, help me — (Gilbert tights 
liis zvay to them and catches Frothingham as she falls). 

Gilbert — Stand aside — aside — I tell you. 

Mildred — (to crozvd) — Keep back. (To Gilbert) — Who is 
she? The woman you told me of — 

Gilbert — Come away. 

Mildred — (to Frothingham) — You know where I live? 

Frothingham — (nods). 

Mildred— Come there — 

Frothingham — They won't admit me — 

MiLDRED--They will; come, come. (Frothingham nods.) 

(Oificcrs pushing back crozvd — that Gilbert has been trying 
to hold back as Frothingham is supported on his arm — as his 



47 

back is turned during this coloquy held betzveen the tzuo zvomen 
— Mildred speaking to Frothinghani in front as she hangs over 
Gilbert's arm, they in front, he behind holding back mob zvith 
his right arm.) 

Officers — Keep back, there — keep back — 

Gilbert — {to Mildred) — I protest — I won't have it. 

Mildred — {to Frothingham — not heeding him — szviftly)^- 
The side door. {Crozvd rushes in on them again.) 

Gilbert — Here, here; help me here — some one. {Officer 
and a man help Frothingham off stage R) — Get her out of here. 

Mildred — Gilbert, help me — {as crozvd pressed dozvn — he 
turns to her assistance as Fothingham is led off R). 

Gilbert — Are you hurt {as she throzvs herself into his 
arms). 

Mildred — No. no — see that she comes. 

Gilbert — It is too late. 

Mildred — It is never too late. 

{Gilbert starts tozvard L.) 

Mildred — What is this mystery {looking off R zvhere 
Frothingham has gone.) 

Gilbert — Nothing. 

Mildred — You said you loved her — you don't, you don't — 
you'd have gone to her — you'd be with her now. Why, why, 
did you tell me so. See that she comes. 

Gilbert — Let me get you to your carriage. 

{Doors of church open and mob begin crozvding into 
church.) 

Mildred — She asked me to save her — that she had been 
kept away by my mother. What does it all mean ? I zvill know. 
I must see her ; don't fail — don't fail. 

{During this she is looking off after Frothingham, and he 
is gently leading her tozvard L — she, almost oblivious of his pres- 
ence, and under spell of zvhat Frothinghani has told her.) 

{As they move tozvard L, Hammond has pushed through 
and conies to them.) 

Hammond — Are you hurt? 

Mildred — No, no ; Doctor Stanley has saved me. 

{At some point in above action in crush — the church doors 
have been opened to the public, and they are pouring in during 
the close of the last episode. Hammond and Mildred are borne 
azvay in crozvd and off stage L. Gilbert left alone in front — 
mob of zvomen pushing and scrambling over church decorations 
they have looted ; up stage and around him — he stoops and picks 
up a spray of orange blossoms fallen from Mildred's head gear 
— stands looking off after her and holding spray, as crozvd rushes 
out of church, tearing flozvcrs and decorations to pieces from each 
other and strezving stage zvith them as curtain falls.) 



48 

ACT III. 

BOUDOIR SCENE. 

(Scoie opens with Mildred in midst of the bridesmaids, zvho are 
chattering and rearranging her and their ozvn somewhat dis- 
ordered apparel. The idea is a confused, girlish, babble of 
excitement over the events of the wedding. A maid kneel- 
ing and seiving lace on Mildred's skirt.) 

Setting — A palatial boudoir of young zvoman of tvealth 
and fashion, overlooking viezv of Hudson River — doors right 
and left — escretoire, settees, chairs, tables, etc., in full detail. 

First Bridesmaid — Some one please pin my skirt. 

Second Bridesmaid — Where's my other glove? 

First Bridesmaid — We're all torn to pieces. 

Third Bridesmaid — Did you kiss her? 

Fourth Bridesmaid — Yes, her lips like ice. 

Third Bridesmaid — No wonder. They nearly killed her. 

Fifth Bridesmaid {To Mildred direct) — I hope you'll be 
happy, dear. 

Mildred — Thank you ; yes. 

First Bridesmaid — Well — it was a romance, wasn't it ? 

Second Bridesmaid — After her brother's marriage she went 
abroad. 'Gene Hammond went with her. 

First Bridesmaid^-No, he followed on another boat. 

Fifth Bridesmaid (to Mildred, pulling her skirt in 
place) — Let me help — 

Mildred — Very well. (Listlessly.) 

Third Bridesmaid — She refused him five times. 

Fourth Bridesmaid — But the family were set on it — so he 
won. 

Third Bridesmaid — 1 just adore a man you can't refuse. 

Fourth Bridesmaid — Any kind for me. He courted her in 
mid-ocean — by wireless. 

First Bridesmaid — Ardent love letters at ten dollars a svl- 
lable. 

Second Bridesmau) — Talk about tropical afifection. 

First Bridesmaid — Warm — a" — ah — that's the sort of 
adoration I'm hungry for. 

Second Bridesmaid — It tastes like lettuce at five dollars a 
leaf. 

First Bridesmaid — Not for her mone}', either: 

Second Bridesmaid — He's richer than they are. 

Third Bridesmaid — What became of the rival? 

Fol'rth Bridesmaid — Oh. that doctor — a hopeless case. 

Third Bridesmaid — She married her old lover, after all. 

First Bridesmaid — I like to see the real earnest man win. 
How's my back hair? 

Third Bridesmaid — All right. 

First Bridesmaid — You're not looking — not a hair pin left. 

Fourth Bridesmaid — Some one tore my skirt. How is it? 
I've been afraid to look or ask. 

Second Bridesmaid — Give me another pin (pinning up 
skirt). 



49 

Fourth Bridesmaid — Quick, I feel like Eve after she ate 
the apple. 

Maid — This way, please. 

First Bridesmaid — Come, we must hurry. 

Fourth Bridesmaid — And now for the final climax. I 
hope it won't last long. Fm dying for a cocktail. 

Second Bridesmaid — Flush. So'm F Who'll go next, I 
wonder ? 

Third Bridesmaid — No one of our crowd this year. 

First Bridesmaid — Why? 

Third Bridesmaid — Look at her bouquet. Nothing left to 
throw. 

Fourth Bridesmaid — That's just my luck. I counted on 
catching that bouquet. Fm the tallest — that's why I consented 
to be bridesmaid. 

Second Bridesmaid — Oh, get out. 

First Bridesmaid — Come along; we'll be late. 

Clarice — {entering from side room as bridesiiurds exeunt, 
passing her singly and in t:eos and threes) — You'll find every- 
thing ready for you. (Shuts door after last one exits and turns 
to Mildred.) Well, Mildred — no oft'ense to your Knickerbocker 
ancestors, but this beats the Dutch. I had to figlit my way in 
and out of the church. 

Mildred- — There seems no limit to the common hunger 
for new sensations. 

Cl.\rice — Jewillikins ! I didn't know you had so many 
friends. The street was jammed with crazy women. I saw one 
freak with a French poodle in arms, scrapping with a policeman 
to get in. 

Mildred — I suppose the nuilli-rich will ])e blamed for this, 
also. 

Clarice — Who cares what the pa])ers sa;/ ; anything rather 
than nothing. They've scolded so much, and so many, no one 
minds it any longer. 

Mildred — Wealth is easily forgiven. 

Clarice — They all want it — that's why. Say, I heard Bert 
Stanley was among 'em, with an ambulance, gathering up the 
dead and wounded. He's on the Bellevue Hospital staff now, 
you know. Did you see him? 

Mildred — Yes. 

Clarice — And he pulled one crazy woman away who had 
almost torn your veil off. 

Mildred — Yes. 

Clarice — And you spoke to him? 

Mildred — Yes. 

Clarice — And that this woman was screaming about hav- 
ing been kept away and wanting to speak to you. 

Mildred — Yes. Dr. Stanley took her away and helped me to 
our carriage. He — he looked pale and ill — 

Clarice — Poor Bert — you knew his mother was dead ? 

Mildred — Oh! I did not know; is it true? 

Clarice — He's gone back to the old house to live. 

Mildred — Is — is he married? 

Clarice — No, a hermit ; works and works. Just imagine — 
Bert Stanley — and I almost married him. 

Mildred — So I understood. 



50 

Clarice — But he ducked ; something happened — right after 
cut up lively ; something dreadful, I heard — of course, I'm not 
conceited enoug'h to think it was on my account. Then Aunt 
Katherine died, and he — well, he's completely changed. She 
never knew, thank goodness. Say, you were a little interested 
there, weren't you? 

Mildred — Oh, no. 

Clarice — Thought you were. But, of course, this beats it 
hollow. Just think ! Columns and columns already, and more 
to follow ; and look at poor little me now — I ran away for my 
wedding — thought I was doing something; and what did I get? 
— three lines. "Married — Privately, at eleven, Thursday morn- 
ing, Miss Clarice Westlake to Mr. Charles VanBerg. The Rev- 
erend Busby Mild ofificiated." ( )fficiated ! That's all my wed- 
ding amounted to. You're the luckiest ever. Talk about being 
born with a silver spoon in your mouth. You came into the 
world with a solid gold soup ladle in yours. 

Mildred — Yes, it seems so, doesn't it? 

Billy — Oh! come now, Mildred, it's all right, isn't it? I've 
always wanted you to marry right — just exactly right. You 
know what I mean. 

Mildred — Such marriages as mine are always right. Every 
one says they are the wisest and turn out the best. 

Billy — You love him, don't you? A little bit. anyhow? It 
doesn't need very much, to begin on. 

Mildred — Yes, yes, I married him. 

Billy — Great snakes ! ( Gacing at her in blank ania.'^cnicnt.) 
Why did you do it, Mildred? 

Mildred — Because he is sincere and honest with me ; and 
because he loves me. 

Billy — Well, that's half; but not the best half. What if 
you're mistaken? 

Mildred — It can make little difference one way or the other. 

Billy — Well, I'll go see bow the procession is getting on. 
I — I can't do anything here — can I? No, I suppose not. (As 
she i^oes ont — aside) — Poor old Bert. 

Mildred — (After Billy's exit, to Lucille, who has entered 
just before) — Quick; is she there? 

Lucille — She came by the servants' stairway, and is in the 
next room. 

Mildred — Please send her here and lock that door. 

(Lucille exits — Mildred tills in interim with business — goes 
to mirror; looks at herself : lifts her hands to her head, and sees 
tier remnant of a bouquet in the glass— looks at it in a sort of 
despair. ) 

Ah! you poor wreck of an emblem! (Drops it on stage in 
repressed anguish.) You poor wreck of a woman. (Frothing- 
liam enters: sees Mildred, and starts toward her.) 

Froth INGHAM — Mrs. Hammond — 

Mildred — Ah — you have come as you promised. What do 
you want with me? 

Frothingham — I want some papers. 

Mildred — I don't understand you. 

Frothingham — They are held by some one in this house. 

Mildred — And that is why you stopped me in the street? 



51 

Frothingham — Yes. 

Mildred — May I ask your name? 

Frothingham — I am Mrs. Frothingham. 

Mildred — I have heard you spoken of. 

Frothingh.'^ViM — I dare say. (With a deprecating sinilc.) 

Mildred — I do not vet understand you. Wliat is it I can 
do? 

Frothingham — It is for the sake of some one else I came 
quite as much as for my own. I want you to ask for the return 
of these papers for me. 

Mildred — And who is this other person? 

Frothingham — I would not like to say. 

Mildred — I do not see how I can he of any assistance. 

Frothingham — Oh, you must. 

Mildred — I cannot. 

Frothingham — Then I nnist try elsewhere. Good night — 
T must save him somehow. 

Mildred — No, no! (Quickly liitei-c'cniiig.) Don't go — I 
won't permit it. I mean — I will assist you — I will, if I can. 
You can understand how much I have endured to-day — that street 
tumult — and my happiness. 1 am so happy ! You know that 
makes us selfish and forgetful of others. Go on ; tell me more, 
more — I may l)e ai)le to help you : I will try. 

Frothingham — You can help me — get those paperes. 

Mildred — It must be of the greatest importance to you — 
vou risked your life to get at me in that crowd. 

Frothingitam — I didn't think of that. 

Mildred — You jumped on the step of the carriage and asked 
to speak to me. What is it you have to say — what is it? 

Frothingham — I had two notes signed bv your brother, 
for losses at bridge — in my house. Another man — no matter — 
some one you know, a dear friend of mine, needed money; and 
I sold these notes to help him. 

Mildred — And now you cannot pay the debt? 

Frothingham — Oh, yes. T have sold some few trinkets 
to do so. 

Mildred— Well? 

Frothingham — They refuse to accept payment. 

Mildred — But it is your right — they cannot refuse. 

Frothingham — The notes were for a certain sum. He 
needed more. I had no other resource then ; and so, the notes 
were changed. The amount was increased. T did not know, they 
say it — it is the same as a forgery. They threaten to expose 
me in the newspapers — make a sensation of it — It means disgrace 
— destruction for me unless I get those notes — 

Mildred — And you did this and sold your jewels for your 
friend ? And some one I have influence with holds these notes — 

Frothingham — And refused to surrender them till to- 
day. 

Mildred — Who is it? 

Frothingham — T was to have them to-day — 

Mildred — My — husband? (Pause.) You must tell me. 

Frothingham — Your mother. 

Mildred — And she promised them to-day? (Touching 
bell.) Tell Mrs. VanBerg to come here. (To Lucille, tvho en- 
ters: Lucille exits.) 



52 

Frothingham — I had to come — I could endure the sus- 
pense no longer. 

Mildred — Yes, yes, I understand — I suppose you refuse to 
tell how my mother secured these notes. 

Frot h I n g h am — Yes . 

Mildred — Why did she hold them over you? 

Frothingham — I can't tell you — it would scarcely interest 
you. 

Mildred — Possibly not. They were promised you today? 

Frothingham — Yes. (Elizabeth enters.) 

Mildred — Mother — you know Mrs. Frothingham, of course? 

Elizabeth — Have you dared to come here? To my daugh- 
ter? 

Mildred — Why not to me, mother? 

Elizabeth — That she should come to you ! 

Mildred — Is there anything strange in that? 

Elizabeth — No, no. Nothing strange or not strange, noth- 
ing at all. 

Mildred — But I see there is something. You have some 
dealings with Mrs. Frothingham ? Do they concern me ? They 
do concern me, and I am not to know it. You don't want me 
to know it — why? 

Frothingham — I have told you — it is a matter of some 
notes. 

Mildred — But what are they? 

Elizabeth — A mere matter of money. 

Mildred — But what is it about them T am not to know? 

Frothingham — My personal interest. (To Elizabeth.) I 
want them now. 

Elizabeth — I wrote you what I would do. 

Frothingham — Yovi promised them to-day — 

Mildred- — Why to-day? 

Elizabeth — A mere coincidence. 

Frothingham — Hardly that, Mrs. VanBerg. 

Elizabeth — Are you seeking trouble, or to avoid it? 

Frothingliam — I am seeking my deliverance — desperately 
seeking. I want those notes. 

Elizabeth — I cannot give them to you. 

Frothingham — You must. You must. 

Elizabeth — But T can promise — 

Frothingham — You are safe now. Keep the promise you 
have made. 

Elizabeth — The notes are not in my possession. 

Frothingham — You don't mean to say — where are they? 
T insist on knowing — now — at once — 

Mildred — Who has them, mother? 

Elizabeth — I don't know. 

Frothingham — Do you realize what you arc saving? 

Mildred — Who has them, mother? 

Elizabeth — Now — Mildred, dear — you must consider — you 
will be late — do not forget your situation — our guests coming — 
are here now. Why not leave this matter for me to arrano-e 
quietly — 

Mildred — I must know, mother — now — before T leave this 
room — 



53 

Elizabeth — This is making me so nervous — I can't abide 
scenes— 

Mildred — Who has those notes? 

Elizabeth — Oh — this delay — you don't know what you're 
doing — what will they say — Mr. Hammond, 1 think — I am not 
sure. 

Frothingham — {Involuntarily — /// affright) — Mrs. Van- 
Berg — {then sudden repression) . 

Mildred— (Touc/zc.? bell button — after a sudden gleam at 
Frothingham)- — Tell Mr. Hanmiond — 1 wish to see him — {Lu- 
cille enters — to Lucille). 

Elizabeth — {Agony of remonstrance) — Mildred! 

Mildred — Wait {to maid). Well, why not? {To mother.) 

Elizabeth— Here — now ? 

Mildred— (W^a//^m^ toivard Lucille, zoho is near door, R.) 
— Why not? 

Elizabeth — But you are not ready — and they are waiting. 
The impropriety of it — 

Mildred — We will override propriety. Bring Mr. Ham- 
mond here {aside — quickly to Lucille). By the other door — 
don't knock — {Lucille exits R). 

Elizabeth — Now, Mildred, why do you do this? 

Mildred — I am trying to understand the situation — I feel 
that it concerns me — most of all — 

Elizai'.eth — I am sure — I can satisfy Mrs. Frothingham — 
allay all her groundless fears. It's like your generosity, my dear 
child. Just listen — one moment — ^oh — you know how I despise 
scenes — my nerves are not equal to them — so needless, too — 

Mildred — We shall soon know — 

{Mildred turns toward door out which Lucille zvent. Dur- 
ing following — till Hammond enters she keeps her back toward 
others — as if unconsciously facing the door R. Elizabeth mo- 
tions Frothingham over to other side as if to keep her in back- 
ground and comes herself toward Mildred.) 

Elizabeth — But. what will his opinion be of us — to involve 
him in such a trivial petticoat affair? 

Mildred — He understands women. Eve heard — and will 
make allowances. You have known Mr. Hammond some time. 
I believe, Mrs. Frothingham? {Elizabeth signals to deny.) 

Frothingham — Oh, no — {carelessly) . 

Mildred — But have met him? 

Frothingham — Yes — possibly — I don't know. 

Mildred — ^Wdiy did you speak to him to-dav at the 

church ? 

Frothingham — He owns the newspaper in which in 

which — my story will be printed unless — 

Mildred — Unless we stop it? 

Frothingham — Y — Yes. {Lfesitatingly.) That is all. — 

{Enter Hammond quickly from side where Frothingliam is. 
She and Elizabeth c.vclaim and as they do so M'ldrcd turns and 
catches the situation.) 

Hammond — Alice, what in the devil do you want here? 
{Low, but Mildred hears without shozving it — catc/iing liimself.) 
Elizabeth — This is Mrs. Frothingham. 
Hammond — Mrs. Frothingham. {As if introduced.) 
Mildred — Mrs. Frothingham has asked me a favor which 



54 

you can grant. She has requested me for some notes which 
mother says you have. 

Hammond — I have two notes — yes. 

Mildred — Why not return them to her? 

Hammond — Well, for one reason — I paid eight thousand 
dollars for them. 

Frothingh AM — ( half aside) — Oh — you — 

Mildred — She seems in great distress over them. 

Hammond — Forgery is a serious thing — for those involved. 

Mildred — There are others implicated then. 

Hammond — Well, I wouldn't say — the notes were tampered 
with and then sold. 

Frothingham — I am ready to refund the amount. 

Mildred — Then why not take it and let her go? 

Hammond — A matter of principle. No, I don't want any 
money from you — 

Mildred — As a concession to me — 
, Hammond — {jovially affectionate) — There — there — dearie 

of course — certainly — certainly — for you — {tone changes to 

suspicious). By the way, is any one else mixed up in this — 
uh — is there any other motive for this? 

Frothingham — No other name has been mentioned. 

Elizabeth — No — no — it concerns ourselves alone. 

Hammond — If you wish it — well — yes. 

Mildred — Thank you very much — 

Hammond — Oh, I'm more than repaid l\v that smile. {He 
shows a trace of too much champagne.) My dear madam, you 
may go away assured of no action on my part. (Has approached 
Frothingham — then lozv to her — tone ugly.) But go — far — and 
forever — take him with you — you understand? 

Frothingham — If I cannot? 

Hammond — You must — must. (Aloud.) I will send you 
the notes tomorrow. 

Frothingham — I understand you. (Aloud, but with mean- 
ing.) 

Hammond — By the way, shall I send them to — (Stops — 
recollects self.) 

Frothingham — Yes — to my — ah — (He looks at her). I 
will leave my address with — your wife. 

Hammond — Verv well. (Snapping watch case which he 
has opened.) Our time is brief. They are waiting for us. 

Mildred — I shall be ready at once. 

Hammond — That's good — my compliments, Mrs. Frothing- 
ham — I'm too happy to give advice— but for the future may I 
suggest a little more caution. A little — 

Frothingham — Thank you — I will try. 

Hammond — That's right — try — nothing like trying. (Sighs 
raptiirouslv to himself as he glances at Mildred and goes out 
— Mrs. Van Berg starts after him.) 

M ildred — Mother. 

Elizabeth — Well? 

Mildred — Where are you going? 

Elizabeth — To rejoin our guests — to avoid remark — 

Mildred — What have you to do with those notes ? 

Elizabeth — They were forged against Charlie — please — 
please — hasten — 



55 

Mildred — I know — but why did }'ou hold them over her 
head ? 

Elizabeth — I did not want any exposure that would in- 
volve _your brother — and ourselves — at this time — so I — I se- 
cured them — 

Mildred — From Mr. Hammond — 

Elizabeth — Now, Mildred — well — yes — 

Mildred — But returned them to him to-day — as exposure 
counts for nothing after my wedding. 

Elizabeth — Now, Mildred — ^what nonsense — 

Mildred- — Who is the other person involved? The person 
whose name you conceal ? 

Frothingham — I told you — the friend I loaned the money 
to — it doesn't matter. 

Elizabeth — Yes, she's promised them now — so it's all set- 
tled. You must really hurry — they are waiting — 

Mildred— (titrns away resignedly) — Yes — I know — 

Elizabeth — Come, Mrs. Frothingham — this way — (Froth- 
ingham starts to follow Elirjabeth out). 

Mildred — No — let her go as she came — to escape com- 
ment — 

Frothingham — Yes, my carriage is at the side gate. 

Elizabeth — Very well but do not delay — Mildred. 

Mildred — Ell soon be ready. (Eli.'^abeth exits.) 

Frothingham — T won't detain you — Fm sure I am very 
grateful. 

Mildred — What did my husband say to you ? 

Frothingham — I don't quite — comprehend — 

Mildred — Over there — just now — 

Frothingham — (laughs). He told me to go away. 

Mildred — And take him with you — I heard that — 

Frothingham — (lightly) — Oh, don't be afraid — that song 
was another "him"- — 

Mildred- — And will you do so? 

Frothingham — I shall try. (With a toss of her head.) 
"Nothing like trying" — as your husband said. (Bitingly — 
start'ug toivard door she entered. ) Fd best be going. 

Mildred — Wait. Will he go with you — this — this man 
whose name you hide? 

Frothingham — With what T have to offer I lielieve he will. 
Thanks to your action to-day — 

Mildred — (fiercely) — You mean my marriage! 

Frothingham — Oh, no — your generosity. 

Mildred — No, my marriage. That is what you mean. You 
have done a very foolish thing in coming here to-night. Why 
did you come at all ? 

Frothingham — T have told you why. 

Mildred — Because in my marriage to-day you saw your 
last hold on them slipping from your hands. They had you at 
their mercv, but you have something to tell me they fear to 
have mc know, and that you dare not tell. 

Frothingham — You are utterly mistaken. 

Mildred — I take an interest in you and your story, and 
called my mother here because I know it concerns a man you all 
have wronged. And this man, you now say, you sell your 
jewels to save. How you must hate him — hate him — 



56 

Froth INCH AM — I love him — love him, far better than — 

Mildred — Than I do. That is what you mean to say. 

Frothingham — I'll not talk to you any more. 

Mildred — You said you had been kept away. There — in 
the street — away from what ? Who kept you away ? 

Frothingham — I meant nothing. 

Mildred^ — You said to my mother — there in the crowd at 
that church door — "You give me what I want or Fll tell her." 
What can you tell me — 

Frothingham — A woman says anything when she's half 
crazed. 

Mildred — You said you would drag me down. What did 
you mean? 

Frothingham — Nothing. 

Mildred — Who kept you away from me? 
, Frothingham — No one — I lied. 

Milderd — No — you didn't. I believe you have kept this 
man I love away from me. You and the rest — 

Frothingham — You do not love him. You do not — 

Mildred — I do — as he loves me — ■ 

Frothingham — It is not true — he loves me. Always — 

Mildred — No — there in the crowd to-day — he told me — 
he loved me. As he held you in his arms. He turned to 
me. I asked him if you were the woman he loved and he said 
No- — he loves me — me — 

Frothingham — Much good may it do you — now that you 
are tied to a man that I have thrown away — 

Mildred — My husband. You said \ou didn't know him. 
You have lied to me there. You know him only too well — 

Frothingham — He's yours — take him — T don't want him. 
Take good care of him. I'm going. 

Mildred — To him ! 

Frothingham — That should not interest you. 

Mildred — If you attempt to leave this room those notes wnll 
never be given up. I'll see to that. 

Frothingham — Then you'll ruin the man you say you love 
— just what your husband wants to happen — 

Mildred- — Gilbert Stanley. 

Frothingham — His name is on those notes with mine. 

Mildred — And that is why he left me. They drove him to 
it. Tell me — they used those notes in some way to separate us 
— my mother and the man I married — they threatened him with 
this crime. 

Hammond — (knocks at door, outside) — Mildred! 

Mildred — You come to me — his wife — and — brazenlv tell 
me that man (pointing at door where Haiiiinond is) is your 
cast-off. Oh! You Unspeakable! (Knock at door again.) 
You should have stood with him at that altar — you should wear 
this — (getting her veil). 

Frothingham — No — no — no — (clinging to her). 

Mildred — (winding veil over her head) — Take it. It be- 
longs to you — you belong to him. I'm going. You have set me 
free — free!. (Leaves room — Frothingham stands in fright as 
Hammond bursts in door, follozu'ed by Elizabeth and others.) 

(Curtain.) 



57 



ACT IV. 

(Same room as Act I — it is early night and the exterior shozvs 
almost dark through zvindoivs gradually lighting to full 
moonlight — instead of summer furnishings the room is til- 
ted in rugs, di-i'aus and chairs of a winter liz'ing room — the 
•I'ines and trees show bare through -c^'indow and door when 
opened — ajid at intervals gusts of zcind sound and dead 
leaz'cs fall and flutter past — the hre burns lozv in fireplace — 
and there is no light in room at rise — music, "It rains." 
Gilbert discoz'crcd seated before the tire — he rises, goes to 
zi'indozi' up C and looks out — then turns to fireplace and puts 
zvood on it — goes to nmntel and contemplates portrait of his 
mother over it — turns to table picks up the spray of orange 
blossoms he held at clinu^x of Act III, Scene I — then goes 
slowly up stairs to door of room Mildred made her first en- 
trance from in Act I — opens the door and stands looking 
in — the moonlight shozvs in this room — as he turns from 
the door and comes dozvn stairs, Hammond enters through 
door C in a rush — softly closes it after peering about zvith- 
out moz'ing and hurriedly moves about room in eager search 
— meets Gilbert at foot of stairs — both start — ifs almost 
dark.) 

Gilbert — Were you looking for me — the doctor? 

Hammond — Yes — the doctor — 

Gilbert — Hammond — 

Hammond — Yes. 

Gilbert — Well? 

Hammond — Are you alone? 

Gilbert— Quite — 

Hammond — Sure ? 

Gilbert — Certainly. 

Hammond — Not mistaken? 

Gilbert — Not mistaken. 

Hammond — Good- — I want to talk to you. 

Gilbert — Go ahead — I'll light the lamp. 

Hammond — Not necessary. We can talk it over in the 
dark. 

Gilbert — Go on — 

Hammond — Money is a big thing, Stanley. When a man's 
got it he's got about everything — 

Gilbert — I used to think so — 

Hammond — I've always been able to buy anything I've set 
my mind to and I've always found that when a man had any- 
thing worth selling — no matter what it might be — it could be 
bought. Now, we won't go into my reasons at all but I'll make 
>ou the biggest ofifer you ever had in your life — or you're ever 
likely to have— and you're going to sell me nothing but the grati- 
fication of a whim — 

Gilbert — Of mine? 

Hammond — No — of mine. I'll give you one hundred thou- 
sand dollars if you'll leave New York and stay away for five 
vears — 



58 

Gilbert — I am going away of my own accord. 

Hammond — To stay away? 

Gilbert — Probably forever. 

Hammond — When ? 

Gilbert — In a few days — as soon as I can get my affairs 
straightened out. 

Hammond — Can't you leave them in other hands and go 
to-night ? 

Gilbert — Impossible — personal matters. 

Hammond — Oh, yes, you can — my lawyers can attend to 
all that for you. Sold out here? 

Gilbert — I intend to sell. 

Hammond — Where you going? 

Gilbert — I don't know — somew here west — 

Hammond — Good place for a man with money, but it isn't 
the place it was. Need capital there — take my offer — 

Gilbert — Why ? 

Hammond — Don't ask me. You're a man of your word — 
make it good. Come with me now. My machine is here at the 
door. Leave this house and come with me to-night. I'll put 
vou up and you can go in the morning. (Gilbert strikes a light.) 
What are you doing? We don't need a light — what do you 
light the lamp for? 

Gilbert — I just want to look at you. You talk like an in- 
sane man — and you look like one (holding lamp to his faee), par- 
don the physician in me — it's my habit to examine any unusual 
symptoms — 

Hammond — You're wasting time — do you accept? 

Gilbert — I'm talking as your physician and if I were to 
diagnose your case I'd say you were under the excitement of 
some delusion — insanity born of fear — dread of something. 

Hammond — (sinking down in chair) — I am — you're cor- 
rect — 

Gilbert — You offer me a fortune to leave New York for 
five years. 

Hammond — A trifle for me. 

Gilbert — You fear me — 

Hammond — I do — I'll tell you why— I'll put it to you in 
plain English and in one sentence : I don't want the former 
lover of my wife around — 

Gilbert — I told you I'm going away. I have no intention 
to be around — no desire to be conspicuous — 

Hammond — But you were — to-day — at the church — you 
dragged her out of that mob of crazy women — 'what did you 
say to her? What did she say to you? Your arm was around 
her — I saw you. You looked at her and I didn't like the way 
you did it; and. damn it, man, that's enough for me — and — 
everything must go with me as I w-ant it. I want no past mem- 
ories — call it fear — insanity — what you like. Between us it's 
lousiness. You're going away — go now. 

Gilbert — Is there any other condition than the one you 
n.ame? Is there any other reason? (A pause.) I understand 
how you distrust me, but I do not understand how you can dis- 
trust your wife. Supposing I say "Good — I accept your prop- 
osition?" 



59 

Hammond — You mean it? I thought you might — every 
man has his price. But hold on. There is something else — 
Gilbert — I thought so. 

Hammond — (going to door and opening it) — Come in — 
(Enter Frothinghani. ) 

Frothingham — Gilbert — I — 

Hammond — I don't want you two to do any talking till I 
get this thing into a clear proposition. I've got you both where 
i can ruin you socially — where I can — never mind — you thought 
a great deal of each other once — do still. She loves you — yes — 
and you care for her. I know you do. Now, my machine is at 
the door — we came over in it — passed a little church a mile or 
so back — light burning in rectory — I took occasion to notice it. 
Jump into my machine — go there — get married (Gilbert looks 
at him). 1 say get married; and that clears everything up — 
uhat do you say? 

Gilbert — I thought when you burst in here it was a hurry 
call — some accident — life and death at stake — some fatal illness. 
1 see I wasn't far from right about you — it is a hurry call and 
the patient is here. You don't want to talk business to-night — 
you want to consult a physician. You'll find a good one about 
four minutes' ride further on. I advise you to call on him imme- 
diately. 

Hammond — I was never cooler or more level headed in my 
life. 

Gilbert — Nor I. 

Hammond — Well, then, what do you sav? 

Gilbert— No. (Turns back on him.) 

Frothingham— I told you, you would fail — but you would 
drag me along with you — another humiliation — 

Gilbert — Then this is not a surprise to vou? You came 
here knowing his intentions. 

Frothingham — I went for those notes — to the house. They 
refused to give them. He has them — and that article — if our 
names are published it will utterly crush me — kill me — I didn't 
intend to come. I must have those notes. 

Hammond — Yes, I hold them — you still stand in peril there. 

Gilbert — How did you get them? 

Hammond — From Mrs. X^anBerg. 

Gilbert — When? 

Ham mond — Yesterday. 

Gilbert — (to Frothingham) — Who did vou sell the notes 
to? 

Frothingham — I pledged them — 

Gilbert — With him? 

Frothingham — Yes — 

Gilbert — And you gave them to Mrs. VanBerg. You must 
have been on very friendly terms — you two — for you to advance 
her eight thousand dollars on security you knew was not straight. 
You — who never gave a dollar without a purpose. Ts that all 
}ou ever advanced? 

Frothingham — Gilbert — 

Gilbert — You owe him other sums. 



60 

Froth TNGii AM — ^Well — 1 — no — I don't — yes — yes — I do — 

Gilbert — That is how you always had money? 

Frothingham — I suppose so. I hate him. 

Hammond — {laughs). You hear — 

Frothingham — Spare me this — please — 

Gilbert — So this is your anxiety — you are not so eager to 
get me out of the way as to rid yourself of her— this threatened 
article is not inspired against me, but against this woman — she's 
what you're afraid of. Damn you — you come here at the point 
of a gun and propose that I marry her — shut the lid down on 
your past relations with her. You come here — palm your dis- 
carded mistress off on me — if you were not a man sick in mind 
and body Fd throw you into the road — 

F^ROTHiNGHAM — Gilbert — 

Gilbert — Fve suffered enough through this woman and 
through you. Do you suppose I don't want to forget you all. 
This incident in my life is closed — forever — and Fll never lift a 
finger to reopen it — dismiss your fears. Fll not bother your 
wife — nor you. But God pity her. Good night — 

Hammond — Is that your answer? 

GiLBERT^ — Fve had enough of all of you — enough. I must 
remember that you are in my house — but I want you to leave it 
(goes up and opens door). 

(When the door is opened Mildred enters as tliongh ex- 
hausted — she falls into Gilbert's arms and is half carried to the 
fireplace — they completely abandon themselves to their emotions 
— regardless and oblivions to the presence of Hammond and 
Frothingham. All the pent up tenderness of their natures is 
given full szvay in the folloiving scene — he realises she has come 
to him unreservedly — absolutely — and she gives full rein to her- 
sclfabandonment — to her instincts — her womanlv hunger for 
his love.) 

Gilbert — Mildred — Mildred — 

Mildred — Oh, Gilbert, my own — I have come to you — you 
know — I could not keep away — 

Gilbert — What has happened? 

Mildred — Gilbert — 

Gilbert — Tell me — 

Mildred — To-day — she came to me — that woman — to get 
those notes — and I found out — everything. He had them — he 
held them over her — and over you — and over me. I know why. 
He and my mother — my own mother — used them to take vou 
from me — but I have come to you — before it was too late — 

Gilbert — Mildred — 

Mildred — Ah — now we understand each other— no more 
deceits — no more doubts and fears — nothing but the sweet truth 
between us. Oh, you don't know how happy I am — I am so 
happy — so happy — (Hides her head on his breast in deep ten- 
derness.) Now we do understand each other — at last — do you 
know it seems ahuost sweeter for what has come between us — 
it has been the redeeming fire — for you and me — we can go 
along our journey with cheerful hearts — we can face anything 
— ^everything — in serenity — T know now that you never turned 
from me in vour heart for an instant — T know it — it is true — 



61 

Gilbert — I have lived in death many days — I have 
iiated myself — and now in spite of everything you are here — 
where you have always been — on my heart. They dare not take 
you away — we will be deceived no longer — we will fear them 
no more — 

Mildred — Why did you turn from me? I asked you that 
once before to-day — at that church door — and you did not an- 
swer me — you can answer me now. 

Gilbert — I wanted to save you. 

Mildred — And that is why you left me. How little you 
men know of us. The only way to save me is to take me in your 
arms — as you are doing now — take me and hold me fast — 

Gilbert — I did not want to bring down disgrace upon you. 
I could not bear to think of your eyes looking into mine in re- 
proach. 

Mildred— And that is how they drove you away from me — 
I knew it — ah — what perfidy — my parents — when will they ever 
learn that they have no right to drive bargains with their chil- 
dren's souls. Ah — but you see, I would not let you go — 

Hammond — Do you think I'll endure this? 

Mildred — Ah — you — what are you doing here? 

Hammond — I came for you. I knew well enough where I 
would find you — 

Mildred — You will never have to look elsewhere — for I'm 
always going to be by his side- — do you hear — always — always. 
Why did you bring her? Can't you answer? Well, why did he 
bring you ? Ah — you needn't tell me — I know well enough. Do 
you think now that he (Gilbert) will go with you. (This last 
to Frothinghani.) 

Frothingham — I think nothing — he made me come — your 
husband. He has been generous enough to ofl^er us a fortune 
to go away together. 

Mildred — Is there no limit to your presumption? 

Hammond — None — where you are concerned — I don't want- 
them around — 

Mildred — You threatened Gilbert with those notes. You 
held the whip of criminal arrest over him to drive him from me — 
and my father and my mother aided you — you don't need to ex- 
plain — I see it all — I saw it in everything that passed before 
my eyes to-night — I heard it in every noise that came to my 
ears — you — you — in the background through it all — using my 
parents — their selfishness — my pride — my resentment at him for 
what you made him do — all — to marry me — you played upon his 
love and her fears to do this and now that it is done what do 
you think you have gained by it — I'll tell you — you have deceived 
a woman — ^who hates you for it — who would not look at you now 
if you were the last man on earth — that's what it brought you — 
that's what you have come here for. Are you satisfied? 

Hammond — There is only one thing that will satisfy me — 
my wife — 

Mildred— You hear — if you had only believed in me a lit- 
tle—just a little — this creature never could have stood here be- 
fore us and called me — Oh, Gilbert — Gilbert — 

Gilbert — I was a coward — 



62 

Mildred — And so was 1 — see — see — what 1 have done in 
pique and anger and hurt pride and in despair — 

Hammond — Do you think I will listen to this — 
Mildred — ^^What do I care for you — what you do is a mat- 
ter of indifference to me. Gilbert, forgive me — forgive me — 
ril not reproach you — never mind what has been said or done. 
This is no time for anything but the simple truth and plain 
speaking. You love me now — you do — I feel it — I know it — 
you do^ — but tell me — tell me — 
Gilbert — Yes — 

Mildred — Yes — with all your soul — as I do you — 
Gilbert — With all my soul — 
Frothingham — Ah — (turns azvay). 
Hammond — By God — I'll kill you — 
•Mildred — Gilbert — 

Gilbert — This woman is mine — she has come to me — do 
you think you can obliterate that fact with your wealth — try it 
— thank God, she has come to me to-night. Do you think we 
care for your rage. I rather like it. You burst into my house 
to-night like a wild animal — well — we animals fight for our 
mates — it's our turn now— ;;we are man and woman — mated — by 
choice — in spite of everything — and all your money and all your 
laws and all your social conventions piled in a heap are not 
going to separate us. 

Mildred — No — no — (fliiigiiig herself into his arms). 
Hammond — You're not going to disgrace me — 
Gilbert — We are not going to disgrace any one — least of 
all ourselves. But we are going to love each other — live for 
each other — together if possible — but whether apart or together 
— for each other — 

Mildred — Do you understand that? (To Hammond.) 
Frothingham — T told you — 

Mildred — Do you think you can buy anything like that? 
Frothingham — Mr. Hammond, you drove me here under 
compulsion. Do what you please with me — -but take me away — 
Gilbert — He will do nothing — 
Hammond — Fll show you what Fll do — 
Frothingham — Do what you please, but I am through. 
You made me come — I am glad you did for I can do a little 
something for them — drive me back to the station. As for me 
this is ended. 

Hammond — But it's not ended for me. See her to my car 
and give me a minute with my wife — you can forego her com- 
pany that long at least seeing you are slated to have it for so 
many years to come — 
Mildred — Yes — go. 
Frothingham — Gilbert, forgive me. 
Gilbert — Yes — yes — I blame myself. 
Hammond — Can't you get out — you two? Take her aw^ay — 

(Gilbert and Frothingham exit.) 

Mildred — You're going to give back those notes. 
Hammond — No — Fm going to keep them. 
Mildred — You're going to destroy them. 
Hammond — I am? (Sarcastically.) 



63 

Mildred — Yes — because this woman has suffered enough. 
She did wrong — but what is it compared with those we have 
done? She did it out of her love and for her sake you're going 
to destroy them. 

Hammond — No. 

Mildred — And for your own sake — because of what she 
has been to you — 

Hammond — If 1 do — what then? Suppose I say "I'll de- 
stroy them?" I can — I'm intrenched — I'm too strong to be hurt 
by any story she can tell. 

Mildred — You mean }-ou have too much money to care — 

Hammond — Well — put it so — but we'll drop that out — and 
say I could criminally prosecute this woman — this man — blast 
the reputation of l^oth of them. I take these notes — throw them 
into this fire — burn them up before your eyes — drop everything 
— let them go. Say I do it because you ask it. What are you 
going to do? 

Mildred — You are back to me? 

Hammond — Yes — thats all I care about — you. I'm going 
to have you. What are you doing to do? That's what I want 
to know. iWhat of you and me? 

Mildred — Yes — what of you and me? 

Hammond — You're my wife — I fought for you — schemed 

for you — 

Mildred — Tricked for me. 

Hammond — Put it that way if you want to — I've got you. 
The law says you're mine — 

Mildred — Never mind the law — this is for ourselves. You 
have schemed for me you say — bartered for me. Let's not for- 
get that. Traded over the counter of my father's money — 
mad ambitions — my mother's vanity — and between you you've 
tied me as you'd tie up a bundle of bonds and bought and sold 
me for your profit. But they sold you what they did not pos- 
sess. They planned and schemed and you helped them — to sep- 
arate me from the man T cared for — to wdiom I belonged — they 
played upon my pique, my chagrin and made merchandise of my 
pride and shame and lied to me and sold me to you and you 
bought me — you bought me under these terms. But there was 
something they could not sell for all your money. Something 
he brought into my life — the birth of a woman's love — the 
awakening of a woman's heart. They turned him from me, but 
they did not turn me from him. You know all this — you must 
feel it and yet you come here and expect something from me. 

Hammond — I expect you to be sensible and come with me — 

Mildred — T did not know you but now I do and it will 
keep me safe from you and such as you forever. 

Hammond — You're blind — flinging yourself at a man's head 
— how do you know he cares — when he told you he didn't he 
told you the truth — 

Mildred — Thev made him tell me — that he didn't care for 
me — that it was only my money — that he loved another woman 
and would leave me for her — but he was loving me all the time 
— and when I was desperate and wild they came to me with you 
and filled me again with all the shallowaiess of our wav of life 



64 

and you took nie — a dead woman — when you knew I didn't 
love you. ( )h, yes — you planned and worked and schemed — 

Hammond — I admit it — I loved you — I wanted you — I felt 
that your craze for this man was a fancy — I know it now — I 
couldn't reconcile a woman like you to a man like him. I wanted 
you as I never wanted another woman — as I never will want 
another. I wanted you as I never wanted anything. I am so 
hungry for you I want to wipe out everything that stands be- 
tween us — I admit that — I was born with strong desires — spoiled 
in it too perhaps — I don't excuse that — what I want I must have 
— It's my nature as it always has been in my life to carry things 
through and make my will my law — 

Mildred — You cannot win love that way — you terrify me — 

Hammond — I'm turning myself inside out for you to see 
me as I am — I never did so for any living being — I'm terrible 
and rough — I know — but my love is terrible and rough, too — 
it will be for you — to protect you — to -make your life a happy 
one — 

Mildred — You are deceiving yourself — as you deceived me. 

Hammond — ^Neither of us is in a mood tonight for this. 
Come home with me. Everything is all right — your absence will 
be explained — come — and to-morrow we'll talk it all over — 

Mildred — No — We'll talk it all over here — that's what 
we're here for — I cannot go with you — this hour has come to 
us right here. It's to end here — now — 

Hammond — You're not going with me, you say — and vou're 
not going alone — don't tell me you are — I know better ; you're 
pulling a fine sensation down upon all of us — 

Mildred — I care nothing for that. 

Hammond — Your father said: "Bring her back with you 
or tell her not to come back at all." 

Mildred — I expect nothing from my father. 

Hammond — What's to become of you? 

Mildred — That is what I ask of you? 

Hammond — Then I say — come along with me and come 
now. Turn your back on all this and be a sensible woman. 

Mildred — -I am not going with you. 

Hammond — You're going with him. 

Mildred — Yes — if you determine it so. 

Hammond — Hah — you mean divorce. 

Mildred — Yes. 

Hammond — No. 

Mildred — Yes — you will — 

Hammond — You think there is nothing left for me. 

Mildred — Do you want me — loving another man. No, vou 
do not. 

Hammond — More than ever. 

Mildred — You excuse your conduct toward me with love as 
your defense — why should I not go to him for the same reason ? 

Hammond — Because I won't let you — 

Mildred — You know better than that. 

Hammond — You'll forget him. 

Mildred— And if I do how would that help you? 

Hammond — T don't care — I want you anyway. 



65 

Mildred — No. 

Hammond — Yes. 

Mildred — No — 

Hammond — You — you — 

Mildred — Don't you understand that if I tlidn't love him I 
couldn't go with you even then. If I hated him it would make 
no difference. If he came in here and told me he hated me you 
would still l)e the same impossibility to me. What you have done 
will stand between us all our lives — what you have been to her 
and what to-day has shown to me would be never lifting shad- 
ows on the fireside of our home — we could never have a home 
together. I've seen too many such homes. I do not want one 
like that. If home is not a sanctuary where love can enter — 
it is a never ending hell. I wronged you when I married you— I 
want to right that wrong now. I want to save you — just as 
much as 1 want to save myself. 

Hammond — I tell you I do offer you love — I know it — 
Good God — you don't realize my hunger for you. It sounds like 
rot coming from me, but its true — every word — its true. I tell 
you. He can't offer you anything better. I've been a money 
slave by day — am yet — will die that way. I've been with the 
best or worst of them by night — I admit it — I'm sailing before 
you under bare poles — I want you to see me as I am — no frills 
— I didn't think it would ever come to me but I didn't know you 
— you've come — and I'm all in. He can't say more — no living 
man can — you're love to me. Once I get you I'll show you it's 
the truth — I'll prove it — I've played unfairly. I admit — I haven't 
been a saint — but has he? Is he now — you don't know — what 
he has been — what he is — to this woman. 

Mildred — You know better— she said so. 

Hammond — She lied — 

Mildred — No — a woman don't lie about the man she loves 
— you won't understand me. I can't drive it into your 
brain — It is love — not this man nor any man — but love — that 
he has awakened. Love that you all deny me — that is what I 
demand — the right to feel for myself free from every influence — 
the right to be a woman — that is all I want and that I will 
have. 

Hammond — Then have it from me — you can — I know you 
can — 

Mildred — No — no— there is one man on earth to whom a 
woman absolutely belongs — if she ever meets this man laws 
count for nothing — she is his in spite of herself — that is the 
law — the highest law — and it only rests with her to obey it — 
wildl}' welcome it with outstretched arms — and no fear — no re- 
straint can stop her. The right to love — that is the only free- 
dom worth having — the only truth in a woman's life. Go away 
from me — go away. I never want to see your face again — 

Hammond — You mean you'll go with him? 

Mildred — No — it is my right but you have rob1)ed me of 
it — no. I'll go alone — 

Hammond — No — by God- — you're lying to me — that's the 
way with you women — always tricky — it's because of him — 
that's what all this high and mightv talks means— and bv God I'll 



66 

not have it. You're mine. Yon belong to me. You'll go with 
me to-night — I'll make you — I'll take you anyway whether 
you want to go or not — you're not going to slip away so easily 
— I'm man enough to make a fight — you say you don't care for 
my money — you'll not be bought — we'll see — you married me 
for it — and now up jumps this fellow again — I'll use every dollar 
to hound you — you'll come with me or I'll — I'll — I'll make you 
too notorious to live — I'll put him behind the bars — I'll wipe 
your braggart of a father and his little bundle of dollars off the 
map — I'll not go out of here without you — I will have you — I 
will — I will — you're mine — come with me — I'll listen to no more 
nonsense — I've stood enough — I won't have my whole life spoiled 
by you — I want you — I'll have you — I'll not listen to you — to 
anything — come with me, I say — with me — {gasps wldly — 
clutches tabic — then his side — and bends over corner of table, 
then falls prone). 

(As Hammond falls Mildred starts from him! bursts open 
window; moonJight streams in on his face.) 

Mildred — Help — Gilbert — Gilbert — quick ! He's dying. 

( Gilbert rushes in — glances at Haniniond — runs to side- 
board — pulls out dra:eer and gets hypodermic syringe, as he 
speaks. ) 

Gilbert — Tear open his shirt. It's his heart. 

(Mildred opens bosom of Hammond's shirt. Gilbert and 
Mildred face each other across Hammond's body — for one in- 
stant — they give each other one intense look — then Gilbert bends 
over Hammond and gives him the hypodermic.) 

Mildred — Don't let him die. I never saw death — I'm afraid. 

Gilbert — Hold his head — 

Mildred — Can you save him? Oh, you can — you can. 

Gilbert — We must. 

Mildred — Yes — yes. 

(Hammond reviving — speaks faintly and gradually zvith 
more vitality.) 

Hammond — Hello^ — Who is it? What's up? 

Gilbert — You're all right — keep quiet. 

Hammond — You saved me — again. What did you do it 
for? 

Mildred — He did it for us all. 

Hammond — You might have let me go. Why didn't you? 

Mildred — No — no. 

Hammond — I begin to see through you two — lend me a 
handkerchief — 

Gilbert — Here. 

(He hands his to Mildred and she wipes Hammond's face 
and lips — his head pillowed on her breast.) 

Hammond — (looking at her in adoration) — Thank you. Oh, 
these women. You're too fine for me— too fine — it won't do — 
I can see that. 

Gilbert — (giving him stimulant) — Here — take this — 



67 

Hammond — Stanley — you're right — it's true — what she 
said. She belongs to you. Stanley, you're the richest man in 
the world to-night — and I'm richer, too. She has saved us both. 
I begin to understand a few things. A man and woman must 
come to each other or it's good for nothing — I've lost you ; but, 
I've found myself, through you. That's something. 

Mildred — It is everything. 

Hammond — Your troubles are over. 

Gilbert — So are yours, old man. 

Hammond — Yes, mine. Am I going to die? 

Gilbert — You've just begun to live. 

Hammond — I'll do the square thing. Help me up. {They 
do so.) That's right. Girl, you've shown me something to-night 
— I know a little more of life. I'll be of some use to others — 
some use to myself. That's what you've done for me. I won't 
forget. 

AliLDRED — You are making me happy — happier than you 
know. {Seizing h's hand and caressing it.) 

Hammond — You've bested me — }'ou two. I'm beat; for the 
first time — I'm glad of it — from now on, I'm your friend. {Plac- 
ing Mildred's hand in Gilbert's.) You understand — your best 
friend. {Mildred retains her clasp on Hammond's hand and 
bends over the three clasped hands.) 

{Curtain.) 



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